


Scars and Secrets

by decaf_kitty



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alley Blow Jobs, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Bottom Hatake Kakashi, Bottom Umino Iruka, Dating, Drinking, Drunken Kissing, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Domestic Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rimming, Top Hatake Kakashi, Top Umino Iruka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 09:30:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16889997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decaf_kitty/pseuds/decaf_kitty
Summary: It's the start of fall semester at Konoha College, and Kakashi Hatake has re-enrolled after four years in Special Ops, taking advantage of the GI Bill. He's bored out of his mind and hiding all sorts of scars and burns, both physical and psychological.His old college friend Gai suggests he help at the Rec Center, working with gifted but troubled kids.There he meets Iruka Umino, the heroic teacher who doesn't hide his facial scar... who Kakashi absolutely hates with a passion... and wants very much to kiss senseless all night long.{Note: On hiatus until Fall 2019.}





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Very much inspired by "Trinity" by Aryagraceling - their version of Kakashi as a returning combat veteran / college student was too intriguing not to explore.
> 
> Also wanted to explore Iruka as a survivor of domestic violence.
> 
> Wrote this while having a hard time lately in life, so this story is a bit sloppier than I'd like, but every story flows at its own strange pace.
> 
> This will be a Netflix-binge-styled updating schedule. 3 chapters now. 2-3 the next update.

Kakashi adjusted his slanted headband one last time before he left his car and strode across the Recreation Center parking lot, hands pushed deep in his jean pockets. He had gotten used to the mask covering the lower portion of his face since his recovery at the burn ward; the soft fabric stretched from his throat up to his nose and stayed in place by being hooked behind his ears. 

But Kakashi was still working with the headband, the one the covered the massive scar through his left eye. He’d worn an eyepatch for a long time in the hospital, but too many children had interpreted it as a sign that he was a pirate. He was not about to have that same conversation again with these kids too.

Even though it was far too late in the day to still have so much energy, Gai was predictably alert and chipper on the edge of the soccer field, shouting inspirational messages to his three students. He was in his standard green spandex shirt and loose black-and-white athletic pants, the very same thing he used to wear during their first year of college before Kakashi joined Special Ops. He seemed to still have the supernatural ability to sense when Kakashi was nearby: he turned around and grinned broadly at Kakashi as he approached the training field.

“Kakashi!” Gai greeted him with all the enthusiasm missing from Kakashi’s soul. “Come over here and meet your students. Iruka-sensei is relaying his final wonderful words of wisdom!”

It was strangely comforting to see Gai in his natural environment again, but Kakashi certainly felt out of place. He came to stand beside his old friend, who immediately slapped him hard on the back, which sent Kakashi stumbling forward. Before Kakashi could throw him an irritated glare with his one good eye, Gai grabbed his shoulder and yanked him backwards into a hard half-embrace.

One benefit of his mask and headband was how much it covered the blush on his too-fair features. Flushing at the close contact, Kakashi stared at the ground, away from his friend, as Gai tried to announce quietly, still a bit too loud for Kakashi’s comfort, “I am glad you are back. Konoha was not the same without you.”

“Yeah,” Kakashi replied, utterly inelegant. 

Gai had visited him frequently in the burn ward and participated in the full length of his at-home recovery, including his physical therapy. The only thing that Kakashi had resolutely refused to let Gai do was help him moisturize and medically clean his face and throat, even though Gai promised loudly and repeatedly he would do it blind-folded if Kakashi needed him to do so.

It was Gai who suggested the local after-school program, the one centered on exceptional middle-schoolers who needed further guidance and discipline. Konoha College had certainly gotten more involved in the local community since Kakashi had left four years ago. Gai said he had personally been ambivalent about the program, but then he had spotted a young boy who he assured Kakashi was a true force of nature – and also someone in need of immense support.

Enrolling again in Konoha College was not the most pleasant thing that Kakashi could have done, but he wanted his Bachelor’s Degree and the G.I. Bill provided him more than enough to finish his coursework. But he’d been truly irritated the first few weeks of classes, lurking in the back of every classroom, scribbling endlessly when he wasn’t reading his romance novels. 

Gai had noticed, of course, and confronted him late one night at the Hokage Tower, their old favorite college bar. He had forced Kakashi to stop drinking in the shadowed back booth and dragged him back to Kakashi’s new apartment, giving him a 3 A.M. pep-talk that consisted primarily of ‘HELP YOURSELF BY HELPING OTHERS.’ 

Kakashi had agreed mostly to shut Gai up. He only remembered what he promised when he woke up the next morning in his empty bath-tub, his cell-phone pinging with a new notification. He had stared blearily at the tiny text before realizing it was a reminder to fill out the Recreation Center safety forms for the ropes course. 

And so there he was, a week later, standing beside his old friend, staring at various groups of middle school children practicing team sports at the Rec Center fields. Kakashi ignored the stares he was already getting. Even with most of his scarred and burnt face hidden under dark cloth, he knew he looked peculiar, but he wasn’t too concerned, not with his mask firmly in place. 

Kakashi kept his typical indifferent slouch, his hands in his pockets, as he studied the field.

Gai gestured forcefully at three nearby students – two boys and a girl playing soccer – and declared, “That is my team!” 

It was so incredibly obvious which boy Gai had been discussing the last few months: the kid looked just like Gai except smaller, younger, and leaner. He even had the same bowl-cut and dark burning eyes, as well as the same green spandex shirt, just in juvenile size. Interestingly, he was doing a one-handed hand-stand while his two teammates kicked a soccer ball to each other.

Kakashi made a soft sound of interest in his throat, and Gai seized on it passionately. “Yes, that is Rock Lee!” he cried, absolutely overjoyed in his mentorship of the boy. 

Kakashi didn’t move his single-eyed gaze from the kid. He felt a twinge of admiration when the girl on Gai’s team kicked the soccer ball at Rock Lee, who easily swung down one leg and kicked it towards the other boy as he maintained his hand-stand.

Kakashi’s eye soon drifted, seeking out who Gai had mentioned when Kakashi got his assignment from the Rec Center. It was easy enough to spot the sole blonde boy in bright orange clothing in the soccer field. He was joined by the somber-faced boy and absurdly pink-haired girl that Gai had so vividly painted in his earlier verbal description. 

While the blonde was grinning ear-to-ear and had his attention fixed on the stocky brunette man standing in front of them, the other boy was looking away from them both. The girl was looking at him in turn, looking dumbly love-sick in the way only prepubescent kids could.

“That is Iruka Umino, but we all call him Iruka-sensei,” Gai explained, pointing directly at the adult man clearly giving his final lecture at the three students. “And that is Naruto,” the blonde, “Sasuke,” the dark boy, “and Sakura,” the aptly named pink-haired girl. 

Gai leaned too close to Kakashi for comfort, especially since his time in the military, but Kakashi adamantly refused to budge. He wasn’t going to let Special Ops steal his friendships as well as his skin. Seemingly oblivious to Kakashi’s distress, Gai too-loudly whispered at him, “They are a handful, Kakashi! Iruka-sensei has worked very hard to make sure they do not terrorize the other students, but Naruto has tremendous energy, and Sasuke has quite the chip on his shoulder! And Sakura is trying to find herself in all the wrong places.” 

Gai practically swooned as he sighed in a single mighty heave. “Poor Iruka-sensei! He wasn’t supposed to have a team at all. He usually trains the younger students, but those three needed a mentor, and no one else stepped up.” He looked towards Kakashi with dark, serious eyes. “You are doing a very good thing helping Iruka-sensei and the children, Kakashi.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kakashi answered dismissively, tilting his head as he better examined this supposedly heroic Iruka-sensei. 

The man looked just a bit younger than he and Gai, and a tad less fit. That wasn’t totally unusual. Gai had worked out religiously since childhood; he would have been considered a terrible brute if he didn’t cry huge manly tears about once a day. Kakashi knew his own lean, lanky form hidden underneath his bulky leather jacket and Levi’s jeans didn’t radiate muscular strength, but he enjoyed the illusion. Furthermore, his burns hadn’t slowed down his exercise routine. 

If anything, Kakashi’s wounds made him want to refine his body even further.

Iruka wore his dark brown hair in a high pony tail, exposing the nape of his neck. His skin was darker than Kakashi’s by many shades, an interesting tan hue that seemed to match the surrounding woods. Even from a distance, Kakashi could see a long scar bisecting Iruka’s face through one cheek, across his nose, and then into the other cheek. 

He tried not to be impressed that Iruka was able to walk around with his scar unhidden.

Instead, Kakashi found himself walking towards his new team with Gai shouting earsplitting encouragement from behind him. He slid up beside Iruka, catching only the attention of the boy, Sasuke, but no one else. He managed to hear the final pronouncement of the other man – 

“ – and if you think you’re going to get away with pulling pranks on Hatake-sensei, you are sorely mistaken, you hear me? You will respect him. Or else.”

Kakashi amused himself by asking aloud, “Or else what?” which startled Iruka so badly that he jumped nearly a foot in the air, spinning around and grabbing at his own chest. 

His eyes were darker than his skin or hair but still in the same brown theme. The scar crossed through Iruka’s face in a single even line; Kakashi thought it might have been made by a knife. Iruka stared wildly at Kakashi, clearly taking him all in, as Naruto helpfully proclaimed, “You scared Iruka-sensei!”

Sasuke snorted, and Sakura finally glanced away from him, looking at Kakashi curiously. But Kakashi was still considering Iruka, whose scarred face was rapidly darkening, a frown drawing down his features. He could tell that Iruka did not appreciate being made a fool, which hadn’t been entirely Kakashi’s intention. 

But, then again, he could admit to himself that he hated the idea of anyone being as a lauded sacrificial hero, let alone his predecessor. 

He had definitely wanted to unnerve Iruka… put him in his proper place.

Kakashi smiled in the way that he’d learned showed on his one visible eye. It wasn’t particularly a kind look on his face; it could seem genuine or artificial depending on whatever he decided to say next. “You must be Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi remarked, unwilling to leave out the smug pleasure in his voice at having caught the other man so off guard.

Iruka obviously heard Kakashi’s cruel satisfaction. His frown stayed in place as he corrected Kakashi tersely, “Call me Umino-sensei.” Ignoring how Kakashi’s good eye sharpened on him and his body tensed in irritation, Iruka simply smoothed down his blue athletic shirt and looked towards his former students. “You three behave yourselves. I’ll be on the field with the elementary school kids today. If I catch you –”

Kakashi viciously disliked the cold rejection in Iruka’s correction, and he found himself interrupting the other man, his tone apathetic but cutting, “Yeah, yeah, you’ll jump twenty feet off the ground and pass out. You can get going, Umino-sensei.”

Iruka jerked his head back to stare at Kakashi with furious dark eyes that screamed pure violence. The muscles of his jaw bunched as he gritted his teeth behind closed lips. Iruka’s voice was threaded extremely tight as he nearly hissed at him, “Good luck, Hatake-sensei.” 

Kakashi took dark unbridled pleasure watching Iruka stalk away from him. 

Good. The world didn’t need any more knights in shining armor. 

But the next hour of getting to know his team made Kakashi realize that at least knights had hulking armor to defend themselves against peasant revolts. He didn’t expect to be outwitted by Sasuke, or to run out of energy before Naruto, or to nearly lose his mind directing Sakura not to be a twelve-year-old girl. He looked longingly at Gai on more than one occasion, unfathomably irritated that his friend’s team managed to work together without murdering each other. 

The second time he had to separate Naruto and Sasuke, Kakashi realized that someone was staring at him, and he turned around to catch Iruka smiling spitefully at him from across the soccer field. Before he could stop himself, he angrily narrowed his good visible eye at the other man. He realized he was truly, fully, glowering at him when Iruka’s face cleared up and filled instead with a strangely embarrassed expression.

Kakashi watched Iruka disappear with his gaggle of much younger children into the next training field, inexplicably feeling as if he had done something wrong, not Iruka. He glanced back at his own team, only to recognize that the silence was due to Sasuke choking Naruto unconscious while Sakura observed with what could only be described as hearts exploding out of her eyes.

He finally had enough: Kakashi demanded that the three students run laps around the soccer field until they could solve a word puzzle that he’d once heard from a fellow soldier before they dropped behind enemy lines. 

He didn’t know the answer; his companion had died in the subsequent fire-fight.

Kakashi sulked on the side of the soccer field, observing his students run like little ungainly children, discussing not a thing between themselves. 

This was going to be hard. Too hard. And he didn’t think it would help him at all.

Much later in the evening, Kakashi said as much while drinking whiskey straight from the bottle, having refused to venture out to the Hokage Tower, wanting to rest in the safety of his apartment. He lounged across his old couch, unable to look at Gai or Tenzo, who had taken their usual positions in chairs opposite each other. As always, they both had the grace not to look at him while he drank or ate, but today he found himself unwilling to look at them when his mask was down. He felt incredibly exhausted, not just physically but emotionally.

After Kakashi pulled his mask back up, Gai noted solemnly, “You have done much more difficult things than discipline twelve-year-olds, dearest rival.”

Tenzo leaned forward in his chair, not bothering to glance at Gai. “You don’t always know what will help you,” he commented, studying Kakashi intently. “You should give it time.”

Kakashi glanced between his friends, not nearly as amused as he normally was by the tension between the two men. He had known Gai much longer than Tenzo, through most of his schooling and then into college, but Tenzo had been his ROTC subordinate for years and then served in Special Ops with him. They had seen completely different sides of him in such a short period of time. 

For the two of them to exist in the same room was only a depressing reminder that Kakashi contained multitudes – and those multitudes were at odds with each other.

Kakashi leaned backwards, staring at his ceiling with both eyes – the fully functioning right and the half-blind and scarred left. He’d tossed aside his headband as soon as he entered his apartment; he felt no shame in either Gai or Tenzo seeing his scar, unlike his burns. 

The heat of alcohol relaxed his throat a bit too much. He started talking before he knew what he even wanted to say. “That Umino is a jackass,” he suddenly remarked.

Gai instantly cried, “What! Why do you say that? Iruka-sensei is a saint!”

In response, Tenzo murmured something under his breath, and Kakashi just barely caught Gai giving Tenzo a displeased glare. Kakashi shrugged against the couch cushion. “He thinks he’s such a good person, but there’s nothing remarkable about keeping shitty kids in line.”

He could tell he was offending Gai, but he didn’t particularly care. Kakashi scratched at the end of his facial scar before he rubbed at the burnt part of his neck still hidden by his mask. 

“He gave me this look – this look of ‘I told you so, dumbass,’” Kakashi added, recognizing that he sounded hurt. He immediately tore his vulnerability to pieces by concluding flatly, “He’s an embarrassment of a man.”

Much to his surprise, Gai suddenly stood up and declared in a conspicuously even tone, “I will see you tomorrow, Kakashi. Do not drink too much more tonight.” 

Gai didn’t look back at Tenzo, nor did he make any further comment. And just like that, Gai left Kakashi’s apartment, not even stopping to take his portion of the leftover takeout. 

Kakashi turned his messy dual gaze towards Tenzo, blinking in inebriated confusion. 

“Was it something I said?” Kakashi asked, mostly rhetorically, but he also did feel some sincere perplexity at what had just happened. He could count the number of times that Gai had willingly chosen to leave his presence, and the number did not make the double digits. 

Instead of answering, Tenzo stood up as well, silently gathering his things from the kitchen. Feeling abruptly abandoned, Kakashi found himself sulking on the couch, staring at the carpet. 

When Tenzo made his own way much more slowly to the door, Kakashi was about to say something snidely to him, but Tenzo interjected with an innocent-seeming statement in a tone that sounded nothing but cutting and critical, “Don’t mistake kindness for weakness, senpai.”

Suddenly alone in his apartment, Kakashi took off his mask before removing the rest of his clothes, piece by piece, until he was nude, sitting on the couch, holding the half-empty bottle of whiskey. He flexed his bare feet in front of him before he took another swig and placed the glass down on the carpet. He wandered into the bathroom for one purpose and one purpose alone: to see himself in the mirror.

Kakashi only managed to study himself when he was drunk. He could still envision what he looked like just a few years ago, and it seemed surreal that he’d been swamped so quickly by scars and burns. 

It was better than being dead, but…

The upper portion of his chest and his neck had caught most of the fire of the roadside bomb, burning through the layers of cloth and body armor. The flames had climbed up under the protective gear for his face, laying waste to his chin and wild splashes of his cheeks. 

A well-meaning doctor had told him at least his lips were intact. 

Kakashi had asked the doctor if he wanted to trade faces with him. The answer, of course, had been uncomfortable silence.

The scar through his left eye was somehow more tolerable. 

The shrapnel had cut into him at such a strange angle that it had been like a stone skipping across water, slicing across his cheek, through the top-center of his eye, and then his forehead. He could pretend on some days, when he was the right kind of drunk, that the scar made him look dashing, but most of the time, it just reminded him of the explosion, and he wanted to hide it and everything else, from the memory to the physical markers.

Tonight, Kakashi was not so terribly surprised to find himself once again in the bath-tub, pressing his nude body against the cool pale plastic, staring at the back of the shampoo bottle. He touched the burn closest to his lips, slowly running his finger on the edge of the injury. 

For some reason, he thought about Iruka Umino and the scar running horizontal across his face. 

Even up close, it seemed that Iruka had done nothing to conceal his scar, obviously not hiding it with cloth like Kakashi but also not obscuring it with makeup either. Iruka hadn’t particularly seemed to notice or care that Kakashi had definitely stared at his scar, even when Kakashi had very clearly looked just below Iruka’s eyes at the injury when he first scared the other man. 

Well, fuck him. He hadn’t survived war and fire and shrapnel. His scar might have been deep and long and centered on his face, but Iruka’s wound was – well it was – 

Kakashi shut his eyes tightly.

It was attractive. Iruka’s scar – and Iruka himself – was attractive.

Kakashi managed to think of little else before he passed out in the bath-tub.


	2. Chapter 2

Iruka was downing mojitos faster than Izumo and Kotetsu could retrieve them from the bar. After the third one, Izumo grabbed Kotetsu across the booth before he could wave again at their favorite bartender at the Hokage Tower. Looking exhausted, Izumo pressed his other hand over the curtain of brown hair over his face and demanded in frustration, “What are you doing, Iruka? I haven’t seen you drink like this in months, not since –”

He managed to stop himself from finishing the sentence as Iruka glared at him so lividly that Izumo sprung back on the opposite side of booth, holding both of his hands in the air in defeat. 

Simmering with irritation, Iruka chewed on ice, staring down at the watery remains of his third drink. He kept replaying the scene from earlier in the day when he’d been scared out of his mind by Gai’s old college friend. He would have expected anyone who Gai called his ‘BEST FRIEND AND ETERNAL RIVAL’ to be respectful and apologetic, but instead Kakashi Hatake had looked undeniably pleased that he had startled Iruka so badly. 

Kakashi had made it all worse by sneering at Iruka and dismissing him like a pest. He had made Iruka seem like a jumpy fool in front of Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura – and after all he had done to build a solid relationship with his three students! 

Iruka bit down hard on the ice in his mouth, refusing to look up at his concerned friends. He had met plenty of rude men in his life, but to be attacked so quickly and condescendingly…! 

As Iruka went to wave at the bartender for another drink, Izumo snagged his hand mid-air, and Kotetsu came around to his side of the booth, pushing bodily against him. Iruka couldn’t keep his dark glower going, and he was soon smiling weakly in embarrassment as Kotetsu knowingly eyed him. A moment later, Kotetsu prodded him in the chest and asked in a warm, worried voice, “What boy has gotten you into such a fuss so fast?”

Iruka shied away from him, moving to put his back against the building’s wall. He glanced between his two friends – Kotetsu leaning towards him, his spiky dark hair all wild, and Izumo appearing truly intrigued with his usual lean rakish look – and ended up throwing up his hands, admitting it all in an irritated rush, “Gai’s friend, the one who just came back from the Army! He’s helping at the Rec Center with Naruto, and he’s a _complete_ asshole.”

“Why do you say that?” Izumo inquired, deftly placing the third mojito out of Iruka’s reach. When Iruka caught him doing it, Izumo only smiled, shaking the drink back and forth like a pendulum. “You don’t usually drink this much, even when you do meet assholes. He must be a real monster.”

Although Izumo meant it playfully, Iruka instantly replied, heat filling him, “He is _not_ a monster. He just acts like a monster because he thinks he looks like one.” Midway through the sentence, Iruka locked eyes with Izumo, who blinked rapidly, bewildered by Iruka’s intensity.

Kotetsu intervened by pulling Iruka’s legs across his lap, stroking Iruka’s jeans distractedly. “What’s wrong with him?” He was clearly overexcited by Iruka’s confession after twenty minutes of hard silent drinking, so much so that Izumo’s warning glare didn’t perturb him in the slightest.

Iruka didn’t know how to explain what he saw. 

After all, in many ways, Kakashi had looked like a runway model, a pretty-boy right out of a fashion magazine. His fine silky silver hair didn’t make him look old but fascinating, something to stare wistfully at in the sunlight. He dressed infinitely cooler than Gai: his black leather jacket and tight blue jeans reminded Iruka of a different era, one with milkshakes and jukeboxes and cars parked at night at Makeout Point. To top it all off, Kakashi effortlessly held himself with pure aloof confidence, the sort that escaped Iruka at every possible turn.

But Kakashi also tremendously concealed his body. The long-sleeved leather jacket had been zippered high up to his neck, even though he still had made it look quite casual. His blue jeans had ended tight against old black high-top Converses. He hadn’t even shown much of his hands. Later, when Iruka had been watching him, he had been perplexed to realize Kakashi was wearing black fingerless gloves, an accessory he hadn’t seen in years. 

And it was Kakashi’s face that been the final warning sign that his asshole behavior was more a front than something he was born with. 

Soft blue fabric had climbed out the top of Kakashi’s leather jacket, stretching up across much of his face, sweeping across both cheeks and covering his nose. It assumedly stayed in place by being tied behind his ears. When Iruka had first stared at him, even as startled as he was, he had realized that Kakashi also wore a different thicker blue headband that slanted down across his forehead, left eyebrow, and left eye, ultimately meeting and covering some of the softer mask on the lower part of his face. 

The whole effect left Kakashi with only a small visible segment of his face – mainly the right side of his forehead, his right eye and eyebrow, and the top of his right cheek. His skin had been frightfully pale and white; his eyebrow had matched the rest of his hair in that fine silver color. 

But Kakashi’s eye was dark and demeaning as he looked down at Iruka. 

Iruka didn’t need to see the rest of Kakashi’s face to grasp what was happening: Kakashi thought he was better than Iruka… and he was also very pissed that he might not be.

Kotetsu pinched the muscle above Iruka’s knee, forcing him out of his dazed thoughts. “And now you forget your friends?” Kotetsu cried, feigning shock, before he grinned and waved an expectant hand at Iruka. “So, what’s up, Iruka? What’s his issue?”

Iruka glanced at Izumo, who appeared much more serious than Kotetsu as he considered the long contemplative silence of his friend. He found himself shaking his head, the alcohol finally taking too much out of him. Iruka managed to explain half-heartedly, a frown twisting at his mouth, “I think he saw combat and doesn’t remember how to behave back home.”

Just as Izumo mumbled “Oh” and looked more worriedly at Iruka, Kotetsu snorted and snapped, “That doesn’t mean he gets to be an asshole to you! It’s not like you’ve had the easiest time lately, either.”

Iruka jerked his legs off Kotetsu and literally climbed over his friend, wanting suddenly and thoroughly to be out of the booth and out of the Hokage Tower. Kotetsu tried to grab at him, apologizing immediately, but Iruka pushed at his shoulder roughly and concluded in a tight voice, “No, I want to go home, there’s nothing more to say about this.”

When Iruka finally got over Kotetsu, Izumo was standing by the booth, blocking his way, looking stricken, but Iruka brushed by him, too, heading out the door in record time. 

He walked home alone. His apartment wasn’t far from the Hokage Tower, and Iruka knew the path all too well, having stumbled down it repeatedly over the last year. He had started his Master’s degree in Education last fall at Konoha College. Although time had flown, Iruka still felt like he was the same silly kid that had arrived with bright eyes and big ideas, even when he was drunk. 

But Iruka wore new scars; those made him feel less silly and much more stupid.

Frowning deeply to himself, Iruka climbed the staircase to his second-floor apartment, running his calloused hand along the cold iron railing. He pushed at his front door as he turned the key, entering the dark familiar space with something much less than joy. He immediately sunk down on the loveseat, cradling his head in his hands. 

It wasn’t Kotetsu’s fault that Mizuki was such an unbelievable asshole, but, good God, did he have to keep reminding Iruka about him?

Of course, Kotetsu and Izumo had been traumatized by the whole thing, too, but it wasn’t their agonizing trip to the hospital, it wasn’t their witness statement report that put Mizuki behind bars, it wasn’t their still-healing back that had lost so much skin and muscle and nerves.

Iruka realized that he’d seen a little bit of Mizuki in Kakashi, and it wasn’t just the silver hair. He did worry mildly that he might have a thing for silver-haired young men... But what had really forced the comparison was the sharp, malicious turn of Kakashi’s voice as he talked down to Iruka in front of other people. 

Iruka winced, rubbing at his face. The vodka had done good work, numbing him some, but he could still see Kakashi staring at him from across the field, having caught Iruka looking far too self-righteous and smug at his torture at the hands of the kids. The furious glare might have been chilling if Iruka hadn’t seen the other part of Kakashi’s expression through all the anger: he was embarrassed and out of his element. Kakashi’s rage was self-defensive: he felt stupid, and he was mad that Iruka had noticed and was mocking his pain.

Iruka pushed off the couch as shame flooded him. 

Why would he do that? Let yet another asshole get under his skin to the point he was gloating over Kakashi’s defeat at the hands of _children_? What a shallow, ugly victory to have. How low had he fallen, and how fast, and for what reason… Because Kakashi had embarrassed him, so now he’d act in kind and be an asshole to an asshole?

Iruka took a quick shower, unwilling to let his drunken self slump down against the wall, even though he wanted to do that badly. He made it to bed after forcing on a pair of boxers and curled up with a spare pillow, staying on top of the crumpled sheets. 

He stared at the apartment wall full of photographs from his many years of volunteering at summer camps, after-school programs, martial arts dojos, somehow seeing all of the kids that he’d helped and at the same time seeing not a single one of them. 

He didn’t deserve their smiles or adoration. He’d been a jerk to a fucked-up man… Gai-sensei’s best friend. He didn’t understand Kakashi, and he was still very pissed at him, but too many signs pointed to a man that had been broken by life, not a man born bad.

Iruka sadly knew the difference now.

He went to sleep thinking of the dark red roses and pretty white baby’s breath flowers that Kotetsu and Izumo had brought him after his surgery – the same ones they had filled his apartment with when he was finally able to come home.

**

Over the next two days, Iruka managed to not totally destroy himself with guilt. By Thursday evening, when he went out to the Rec Center training fields, he had convinced himself that he had been the real asshole and should probably be the one to apologize –

But then he saw Kakashi Hatake standing alone underneath the ropes course, his mostly-masked face pressed into the lewdest-looking romance novel that Iruka had ever seen in his life. 

Barreled over by shock, Iruka stared open-mouthed before he realized just where Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura were – walking on the damn ropes course twenty feet up in the air!

Iruka had stormed across the field and further into the woods before he could stop to think. His face flushed, he slammed to a furious stop in front of Kakashi, who didn’t even remotely acknowledge his presence. Focusing on Kakashi’s visible eye above the trashy romance novel, Iruka exclaimed in enraged disbelief, “Hatake-sensei, what do you think you are doing!” 

Kakashi glanced over his book for just a second. “Is he your type?” he asked out of nowhere.

Iruka stared, his anger dissipating as he grew more confused. “What? Who are you –?”

Kakashi shook the romance novel while keeping it in front of his face, tapping one long pale finger on the front cover. Iruka’s attention redirected to the cover’s protagonist: a nearly nude bronze-skinned beefcake of a human man with glorious blonde hair, holding a petite big-bosomed brunette woman against his bare chest. 

Iruka realized he was blushing harder at the allegation than his run over to the ropes course. He was at a total loss for words, staring open-mouthed at Kakashi, who finally dropped the book, doing that strange fuck-you smile at Iruka from under his mask. 

“Oh, he’s not?” Kakashi mused, looking quite pleased with himself. 

Iruka gawked at him incredulously. 

Kakashi wondered curiously, “Is she, then?”

“Shut up,” Iruka snapped, furious at how much he was blushing. He pointed lividly at the ropes course, where Naruto was perilously walking a rope high off the ground, clipped into safety gear further tied to a thin wire above him. “What are you doing! They are _not_ ready for ropes!”

Kakashi turned his attention towards the children, as if he had just noticed where they were. He closed the romance novel and pushed it into the back pocket of his jeans. Kakashi hummed deep in his cloth-clad throat, tilting his head, as he considered the kids working their way across the single thick rope. 

“Good point,” Kakashi admitted, and Iruka nearly gasped hearing his agreement. But Kakashi didn’t say another word and instead leaned down, picking up a random rock by his foot. After he ran the stone over his gloved palm, he threw it – right at Naruto!

Iruka didn’t even have time to cry out before the rock cracked Naruto hard on the hand, where he had been clinging onto the safety lines on either side of the rope. “Ouch!” Naruto cried, shaking his hand, before he looked over and saw that Kakashi’s attention was directed at him. He whined down at him, “Kakashi-sensei~ I was just holding on for a second!”

“You don’t need it,” Kakashi replied in a louder voice than he’d been talking to Iruka. 

Naruto shot him a huge grin, and Sasuke behind him nodded, too. 

Both of them seemed to notice Iruka at the same moment. While Naruto started waving wildly at his former teacher, Sasuke gave Iruka the smallest smile. But he soon slapped his hands down on Naruto’s, trying to control the other boy’s erratic movements and stopping him from shaking the whole rope.

When Iruka resumed looking at the other man, he found Kakashi staring at him. 

Kakashi appeared utterly disinterested in Iruka – and yet was obviously very pissed at him. 

Iruka shrunk back, unprepared to have such resentment thrown his way. He blinked several times, feeling abashed that he had misread his students and had provoked Kakashi’s displeasure again. He mumbled something vague before he forced himself to be clearer, saying quickly, “Just be careful. They’re only kids.”

“I can’t tell if you’re trying to be a mother or a motherfucker,” Kakashi said suddenly, his voice cold and monotone.

Iruka stared back at up him, absolutely aghast. He wasn’t sure if _anyone_ had called him a motherfucker – ever! He certainly was not ready for such an insult at the end of an already long week. But his pure shock swiftly transformed into fury, which Kakashi could clearly tell, because his single visible eye widened just as Iruka burst out explosively–

“I have _no idea_ why Gai likes you!”

Iruka spun on his feet and stormed back up at the soccer fields. All too quickly, embarrassed shame swept over him as he realized that he’d let his anger take control over him again. He slowed down, fighting the desire to turn around and look back at Kakashi. 

But he wouldn’t look back.

Instead Iruka kept moving, increasingly furious that he had to deal with such a rude and awful man, and that Naruto and Sasuke and Sakura were under _his_ tutelage now, and that Mizuki had turned out to be so fucking abusive, and that –

He was excessively tough on the elementary school kids the rest of the evening. The parents thanked him profusely when they picked up their children; so many comments of “Wow, he’s never this quiet!” and “She’s so docile tonight! You’re just wonderful, Iruka-sensei.” Iruka felt he didn’t deserve the compliments, but he smiled and blushed accordingly. 

As soon as the last student was picked up, Iruka practically flew to the bus-stop, desperate not to run into Kakashi _or_ Gai.

How could he have mentioned Gai so loudly – how could he have yelled so loudly! What if Naruto heard him? How much could he possibly embarrass himself in one week?

Iruka smothered his expression with one hand and dragged himself onto the bus, finding himself abruptly and absolutely exhausted. He leaned against the metal wall of the bus, instinctively looking out the window.

Kakashi was standing by a sleek dark car in the Rec Center parking lot – and he was staring right at Iruka.

Iruka flushed fully, immediately, and ducked down in the seat, disregarding how foolish he felt for trying to hide from the other man.

He didn’t go to the Hokage Tower that night, and he didn’t answer Izumo and Kotetsu’s texts. Instead, Iruka stayed in his apartment, meandering through his Friday readings. He busied himself all night, trying to avoid the horror of his bad behavior and how _terrible_ it was to have the Rec Center so quickly ruined by just one man.

**

For the first time in his life, Iruka was reluctant to go to his 8 A.M. Saturday scheduled session at the Rec Center. He had felt sick all morning, and he knew he could call in, but he had missed too much time after the incident with Mizuki in the spring, and he didn’t want to be known as a flake. As if trying to rub salt in his wounds, the bus arrived fifteen minutes late, causing Iruka to rush down towards the soccer field, looking a disheveled mess.

His co-instructor for Saturday mornings had already gone out with the kids, leading them on their usual quick hike around the lake. Iruka sighed into his hands: there was no good way to catch up, and he would have to wait for the group to come back around. He went to sit on the parent benches, watching the mentors and their teams, wanting very badly to not be there at all. 

Gai noticed him in short order, waving far too generously in his direction. Iruka flushed when his much larger friend shouted something at his three students and sprinted towards where Iruka was sitting on the benches. Looking like he’d barely broken a sweat at the hard run, Gai struck quite the pose in front of Iruka, exclaiming brightly, “Iruka-sensei! You are late today!” 

Iruka had to laugh, even as he winced a little. “The bus wasn’t on time,” he explained sadly, but Gai’s vigorous, understanding nod made him smile. “How are you this morning, Gai-sensei?”

Gai shot him both a thumbs up and a toothy grin. “Excellent!” he declared in a booming voice. “I have convinced Kakashi-sensei to continue training his team, and Rock Lee will be competing next week at the Harvest Festival Triathlon!”

Iruka blinked and asked instantly, “What did you say?”

Gai glanced over Iruka’s expression, looking distantly confused. “Kakashi-sensei had a tough time on Thursday, did you not hear?” Iruka managed not to go pale, but his appalled features must have convinced Gai of something, because Gai continued more firmly, “He wanted to quit! But I told him – Iruka-sensei withstood the team for two months, you can survive at least a week!”

Iruka found himself speechless and staring in horror at Gai, who seemed impossibly oblivious to the awful inner monologue churning inside Iruka. Instead of appropriately recognizing Iruka’s turmoil, Gai gave him another thumbs up and declared, “I must go make sure Rock Lee does not die! He loves to push himself to the limit!”

As Gai sprinted back to his students – including Rock Lee, who Iruka noticed was shakily attempting a one-fingered handstand – Iruka looked frantically around for Kakashi. 

He found the other man exactly where he was on Thursday: standing underneath the ropes course, his face deep within the pages of a different romance novel. He was wearing nearly the same thing from Tuesday and Thursday, the leather jacket and tight blue jeans, but his Converses were a bright solid blue color. He seemed completely at ease with Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura high up on the ropes course, even as the sight made Iruka’s heart beat in panic.

Iruka resolved himself to apologize. He started to walk down to the woods, but then Iruka heard the thrilled shout of his name and realized his co-instructor had reappeared with their huge Saturday morning group. He bit his lip, deciding his apology could wait until noon, the end of their usual practice.

Three hours later, Iruka felt much less of the horror and shame that occurred when Gai had unknowingly confessed how badly Iruka had affected Kakashi. He was happily tired and better fulfilled, and he definitely believed he could control his anger, and so he sought out Kakashi.

As Iruka walked down to the woods, he realized Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura weren’t on the ropes course anymore. While Sakura was laying on her stomach in front of Kakashi, the man himself was sitting at the base of a huge oak tree, his romance novel resting on his knee. The girl was talking up a storm to him, and Kakashi seemed to be paying her at least some attention. 

Iruka looked for Naruto and Sasuke – and he felt a fearful chill course through him.

Sasuke was sneaking up behind Kakashi… and Naruto was actually in the tree itself!

Iruka knew this game too well. The three had played it on him during his first week, too. Sakura had first distracted him, then Sasuke had scared him, and then Naruto had snagged the hairtie right out of his hair. The next half-hour consisted of Naruto running around, hysterically giggling, while Iruka chased him, at first yelling furiously then finally laughing as well.

There was really only one thing that the three kids would want from Kakashi.

The goal wasn’t his romance novel: Sakura could clearly reach over and grab the book herself.

Iruka was running towards his old team, his voice caught crazily in his throat. He could see the whole thing unfolding in front of him, even as he moved towards them, and it made him so terribly nauseous that bile rushed into his mouth. 

Sakura was talking incessantly as she dropped her head down, Kakashi instinctively following the motion. Behind him, Sasuke crept close, just inches away, finally attracting Kakashi’s attention. As Kakashi glanced back at him with his good eye, Naruto swung down from the same branch he’d used to get to Iruka – and snatched the mask right off Kakashi’s face!

Iruka could not have been more surprised by the next moment.

Kakashi somehow stood and sprinted away in the blink of an eye.

He went straight to the Rec Center parking lot, speeding past the parent benches. 

Iruka found himself standing over Naruto, who was looking totally astonished, and he grabbed the boy by the ear right away, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Absolutely NOT!” 

Naruto had gone so pale that the little red marks on his face that he drew every morning stood out like black on white. He dropped the fabric immediately, stammering out something incoherent, staring wide-eyed and shocked at his teacher. Iruka instantly turned on Sasuke and Sakura, who were just as surprised by Iruka’s sudden arrival and the unexpected reaction of their new mentor. Using the voice that he knew killed any resistance in children, Iruka demanded of them, “Both of you, get over here, NOW.”

Sasuke and Sakura jumped right into place on either side of Naruto. After Iruka let go of Naruto’s ear, Iruka gestured close to the students’ faces, declaring harshly, “If you EVER touch Hatake-sensei’s mask again, I will have you each withdrawn from this program!” He narrowed his eyes at them and concluded firmly, “And don’t pretend you’d be okay with that. You are all _transparent_. You obviously like each other, and you go to different schools, so this is all you’ve got. Behave yourself, or this will be over, _just like that_.”

All three nodded their heads, Naruto most of all, who definitely was on the verge of tears. Iruka shook his head, trying to rid himself of the scorching fury running hot all over his body. “Run laps until your guardians pick you up,” he ordered, pointing hard at the soccer fields. They took off, even Naruto, who looked as pitifully as he could at Iruka, but, receiving no sympathy, ran after his two friends.

Iruka hurried up the hill towards the Rec Center parking lot, searching for Kakashi’s dark car, the one that he’d seen him leaning against on Thursday. Today the vehicle was at the far back of the lot, past the long line of cars of parents waiting to pick up their children. Iruka realized he was sweating from the run towards the team – and now made worse rushing to find Kakashi – but he also had to admit that he was incredibly anxious to see the other man, especially after what Gai had let slip earlier in the morning.

As he slowed down getting closer to Kakashi’s car, he realized the man was sitting in the driver’s seat, covering the entirety of his bare face with his two fine gloved hands. 

Iruka felt his heart do a strange skip in his chest. He swallowed roughly and walked the last few feet to Kakashi’s car. He could better see Kakashi bowed over the wheel, holding his face with both hands. He thought he might be imagining it, but it seemed to him that Kakashi was trembling just a little, his black leather jacket shaking over his shoulders.

Iruka knocked on the window with one hand, holding Kakashi’s mask against the window with the other, while he resolutely looked away back towards the soccer fields. 

While he didn’t see Kakashi’s reaction to him standing there, he heard the window electronically roll down. Then Iruka felt the mask being pulled from his fingers, and he let the fabric go on instinct.

“I told them off,” Iruka explained shortly, ignoring how his voice wobbled from the adrenaline of the whole thing. “They’re just dumb kids. They did the same thing to me with my hairtie over the summer.”

Because he wasn’t looking at Kakashi, Iruka wasn’t sure what the other man thought of his comment. He pulled back his hand, crossing his arms over his chest. He felt ridiculous saying it, but Iruka murmured contritely, realizing he needed to do better, be better: “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

He wasn’t about to say anything more. After several moments, Kakashi audibly shifted the car out of park, and Iruka stepped clear of his path, never looking back at him. 

Iruka sighed messily into his hand as Kakashi drove away. 

Ugh, what a fucking week. 

He was texting Izumo and Kotetsu before he even made it to the bus stop, demanding as many mojitos as he wanted without a single question from either of them. He was all too relieved to receive an instant joyous response from both his friends. After doing his work for the following week, Iruka was going to drink and drink and drink and not think of Kakashi Hatake _at all_.


	3. Chapter 3

Kakashi was so numb that he couldn’t even imagine drinking.

He texted Tenzo ‘8pm’ and slept through the rest of the day. He went to the gym at the designated time, finding Tenzo waiting at their usual spot by the weights. He felt very little as they got to working out. Tenzo didn’t force him to talk, speaking only occasionally about their routine. Kakashi pushed them both far too hard, but Tenzo was a perfect companion, as always. He knew he was exploiting the man a bit; Tenzo had always been that way, always willing to do anything for Kakashi’s approval. 

But he had to get through the day. His friend would help him survive. He always did.

Without being asked, Tenzo followed Kakashi back to his apartment and took the first shower. When he exited the bathroom, Tenzo gave Kakashi one long curious look and finally asked in a low tone, “Are you going to tell me what happened, or should I just go home?”

Still dripping sweat, Kakashi tiredly pulled off his headband, wiping at his scarred eye, before he ran a hand through his wild silver hair. He slanted an irritated look at the balcony door and said evenly, “The kids stole my mask.”

Tenzo nearly dropped his towel. “Kakashi-senpai,” he breathed before he caught himself. “Are you okay? What did you do?”

Kakashi could tell Tenzo was a little worried that he might have exploded, maybe even harmed someone, maybe even himself. He shrugged with more indifference than he felt, wiping sweat from his forehead. 

“I went to my car,” he answered simply. 

Tenzo walked towards him, then stopped and waited, obviously realizing the story wasn’t done yet. Kakashi leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, and he stared down at the carpet by his beat-up sneakers. The words were burnt ash in his mouth, but he said them anyway in a flat dead voice: “That Umino guy gave it back to me.”

“Yeah?” Tenzo echoed, his tone changed. Kakashi glanced up to observe his expression, but Tenzo had moved to sit his usual chair across from him. He was still nude and wet from the shower, the dark blue towel covering his hips to his thighs. Tenzo seemed unconcerned, and Kakashi equally felt little reaction to his friend’s state of undress. 

Tenzo’s tone lacked all challenge as he asked thoughtfully, “Did he see you?”

Kakashi could still see Iruka Umino, drenched in sweat, standing outside Kakashi’s car. He was in his usual Rec Center garb: an olive green polyester wick-away shirt and a lightweight pair of black athletic shorts with unfashionable running shoes. His dark hair was messy from running, stray pieces sticking to his forehead. His facial scar was just as obvious and unhidden as before. His brown eyes were cast unmistakably in the opposite direction of Kakashi and his car as he held up Kakashi’s blue mask with one hand. 

“No, he didn’t even look,” Kakashi murmured, dropping his eyes from Tenzo.

“That’s… good, right, senpai?” Tenzo asked slowly, noticing Kakashi’s discomfort.

Kakashi wasn’t sure how to answer. He eventually took a shower and made them both food. They didn’t drink; Tenzo didn’t even go for his favorite beer in the fridge. Kakashi watched Tenzo sit in his chair long past the time he normally headed home and finally asked in a dry, empty voice, “Do you want to sleep here?”

“Sure, senpai,” Tenzo replied easily. Kakashi tossed him a blanket from the back of the couch, and Tenzo slunk down on the floor, resting his head on his hands. He slept the same way that he did in the service: a bit too alert and much more rigid than necessary.

After turning off the living room light, Kakashi laid across the couch, staring at the ceiling. With his half-blind eye open, he could make out different flaws in the drywall, but he wasn’t fully able to tell if they were all real – or if his scar was distorting his vision. Both he and Tenzo were totally silent the rest of the night. At some point, each of them fell asleep, though neither could have said which went under first.

**

The next week – even the Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday when Kakashi went to the Rec Center – went better than he could have expected. His classes were unbelievably dull, but he had started making connections between courses, which proved somewhat invigorating, even if he was doing it independent of his professors. He and Tenzo continued to exercise ritualistically, improving their weight sets and getting faster on their runs. He and Gai resumed their early morning meets, protein shakes for Gai and hot black coffee for Kakashi, the same thing they had done their first year of college, back when Kakashi didn’t have to shade his face from view to drink something. 

Kakashi felt less humiliated than he would expected when he met his team on Tuesday.

Naruto instantaneously flattened himself on the ground, overtly groveling, while Sasuke looked surprisingly depressed and Sakura appeared to have been made sleepless by guilt since Saturday. 

Kakashi had shrugged it all off, gesturing for them to go back and try again at the ropes course. They had looked at him in complete confusion before Kakashi had tugged out his romance novel, waving it vaguely at his three students. “You’ll never make it across at this rate,” he warned, his voice both deliberately light and dismissive. 

He was right: they didn’t make it across Tuesday. But, late on Thursday, the team did. 

It was strangely fulfilling to see three twelve-year-olds so happy at their accomplishment. Kakashi realized he was looking around to see if Iruka had noticed when Naruto abruptly pulled on the sleeve of his leather jacket. He directed his single-eyed gaze down at the boy, a bit surprised that Naruto was brave enough to come close to him again.

“Sorry we stole your mask,” Naruto announced, emotion thick in his voice.

Kakashi glanced up and saw Sakura nodding, a weepy expression on her girlish face. Behind her, Sasuke uncrossed his arms and stared hard at Kakashi before he nodded, too.

“Yeah, that was a shit move,” Kakashi agreed, shrugging, unsure how to respond otherwise. 

His profanity caused Naruto to laugh out loud. The blonde boy grinned, looking beyond Kakashi, and proclaimed loudly, “You better watch out! Iruka-sensei _hates_ when people curse!”

Kakashi followed Naruto’s pointed look and saw that Iruka had stopped at the top of the soccer fields, up the hill, by the parents’ benches. The man was already deep in conversation with Gai, who had clearly caught Iruka before he could leave the Rec Center. 

Kakashi had realized days ago that Iruka hadn’t told anyone about the mask-stealing incident. Iruka hadn’t even told Gai. Kakashi had figured that out when Gai had bounded into Kakashi’s apartment Sunday morning and woken up him and Tenzo, demanding they get brunch together at his favorite restaurant. 

Not only had the mask-stealing-and-returning not been brought up, Gai had instead happily told Kakashi that he’d gotten to drink with Iruka on Saturday night – and, boy, could Iruka-sensei drink! He drank so much that he passed out and his friends carried him home! It was quite impressive and terrifying, and Gai was just so proud!

Leave it to Gai to unknowingly share intel.

Kakashi waved a sudden goodbye to his students, unceremoniously leaving them behind, as he headed straight to Iruka and Gai. He wasn’t certain what he would say to Iruka, especially not when the man was around Gai, but he had a few questions that he’d liked to have answered.

As if Iruka could sense him coming, using the same supernatural ability he apparently shared with Gai, Iruka removed himself from Gai’s passionate companionship and disappeared into the crowd of reuniting parents and children. Kakashi slowed down, making a face behind his mask at Iruka’s absence. But he wouldn’t be denied: he wanted to know what the man was thinking, giving him back his mask after they’d been absolutely ruthless to each other all week.

**

It was Friday morning when Kakashi accidentally saw Iruka again, and this time it was on Konoha College campus. Gai had mentioned to Kakashi at one point or another that Iruka was a graduate student in Education finishing up his Master’s. Iruka looked different than how he did at the Recreation Center: he was dressed in grey fleece sweater and black-colored jeans with classic brown leather shoes. A new tension filled Iruka’s figure as he walked in the academic world. Perhaps it was the books that Iruka was carrying hard against his chest, or how he didn’t seem to be acknowledging anyone else as he walked across the campus at a quick pace.

But Kakashi had set his single-eyed sight on the teacher, and it wasn’t that difficult to catch up with him. He grabbed Iruka by the arm before the other man even noticed and pulled him, rough and rapid, into a dead-end cement alcove by Hiruzen Hall. Iruka must have realized that it was Kakashi directing him because, after a moment of initial protest, he followed at an equal speed.

Letting Iruka loose, Kakashi leered down at him and asked immediately, unable to control the irritation threading his voice, “Why did you do that? Why did you give me my mask back?”

“What – was I going to keep it?” Iruka snapped back instantly. His scarred brown face was rather flushed, though Kakashi couldn’t tell why he was, maybe the rough maneuvering…?

“I mean it,” Kakashi said back, forcing his tone to level out. 

With his half-blind eye closed and behind the headband, he could see Iruka quite well. The other man _did_ look different on campus. Less sweat on him. Sharper eyes. Stance tense and wary.

Iruka’s scar was as unconcealed as ever. This close, Kakashi could make a better guess at what had caused the injury. His initial thought of a knife seemed right, but just how a civilian would get a blade cut across his face escaped Kakashi’s imagination. 

Iruka tightened his grip on the books against his sweater-clad chest. His brown eyes narrowed as he considered Kakashi. Not much changed between the Rec Center and campus in terms of what Kakashi wore, but he was stiff and on edge, which Iruka was clearly reading. 

After a moment, Iruka said crisply, “You’re not the only one with scars, Hatake.”

Then Iruka brushed by Kakashi. Their shoulders nearly crashed together before Iruka twisted at the last second. He slid out of the alcove and headed into Hiruzen Hall without looking back.

… what an interesting thing to say. 

**

Kakashi spent Saturday absolutely distracted. He couldn’t read his romance novel; he couldn’t keep track of his team. He worried after a while that the students might actually fuck up on the ropes course and possibly die individually or as a whole group. As a consequence, Kakashi told them to complete a team-building exercise where they were tied together with rope and had to collectively climb the massive oak tree that Naruto seemed so obsessed with. 

Meanwhile, Kakashi kept thinking about Iruka’s scars comment. 

Obviously the other man had the single prominent scar on his face: it was huge compared to most people’s scars. Even Kakashi’s shrapnel injury was lighter on his skin than Iruka’s horizontal scar. When Kakashi had forced Iruka into the alcove, he had realized the tissue of Iruka’s wound had regrown dark, and the depth of it had left a long sunken recess on Iruka’s face. And yet, bewilderingly, Iruka seemed completely at peace walking the world with such a fearsome scar. The children seemed to love him too, as if the mark didn’t matter at all.

But Iruka’s comment had suggested _multiple_ scars. 

Scars that Iruka hid, too.

Could he mean emotional scars? 

Was he referencing Kakashi’s scars under his mask? His burns? Kakashi’s psychological scars? 

The whole thing was dizzying and confusing. Kakashi was not prepared to confront the urge to harass Iruka again so soon. He sort of hated the man. He actually _really_ hated the man. 

He sort of actually _really_ wanted to fuck the man.

After Kakashi shook himself out of his distressing thoughts, he glanced up and realized that Naruto was limp hanging off a branch while Sasuke looked like he was trying to take a nap. Sakura was stuck in the middle, suppressing tears. 

This was not a good time to daydream.

He survived the rest of the Saturday morning session, and his students only received a few new injuries. Most of those were surface-level emotional traumas, nothing too terrible, anyway. Kakashi grabbed Gai before the man could literally run back to his apartment and demanded that they go drinking. His friend had been so delighted that he started to break into his own bout of manly tears. Kakashi had instantly abandoned him, intent on getting his schoolwork done before he got wasted that evening. He let Tenzo know via text and was, as always, relieved when his other friend agreed and said he could be the designated driver for their ridiculous group of three if needed.

He drank only slightly at home before Tenzo arrived at 10:00 P.M. sharp and jokingly escorted Kakashi to the car as if they were heading out on a date. Kakashi gave his friend a very dry look when Tenzo complimented his usual headband – “So dashing, senpai~” – but he found himself secretly smiling at the off-handed joke. They parked a bit away from the Hokage Tower and wandered up to the bar, able to locate Gai instantly at their typical Saturday night booth.

They had chosen it when Kakashi had first arrived back into town: it was at the far back of the Hokage Tower, absurdly distant from the bar. Two of the lightbulbs were dead above the table. While Kakashi still drank with a hand covering his face, he felt comfortable enough getting drunk there, and they’d accomplished that a few times since the end of summer.

Gai already had three cold beers waiting for them. He was truly exuberant as Kakashi and Tenzo approached; he pulled Kakashi into a massive embrace, slapping him hard on the back in such a way that Kakashi was slightly afraid he might leave bruises. He realized that Gai was in an especially good mood when Gai launched himself at Tenzo and yanked _him_ into a hug, which Kakashi had only seen him do once before. Tenzo’s dark eyes bugged out of his face at the close contact and clueless manhandling, but Gai only laughed in his ear, exclaiming loudly, “Tonight we will finally solidify our friendship!”

When Tenzo managed to detach himself from Gai, he drank his beer so quickly and in one go that he was already heading towards the bar to get another round for the three of them.

So much for being the designated driver. 

Kakashi shrugged to himself as he slid into the booth. They could always get a ride home and come back for their cars tomorrow. That was clearly Gai’s intention, because he was downing his drink in record time, too, and then encouraging Kakashi to do much the same.

They were all about three beers in when Gai delightedly declared that he wanted to get everyone shots – and vaulted over Tenzo and the entire booth itself to achieve his goal. Although he had spent enough time with Gai to know the man was high-spirited, Tenzo appeared especially dazed by being jumped over so easily. Kakashi realized that he was feeling rather buzzed because he found his friend’s expression so funny that he ended up laughing outright. Tenzo looked strangely pleased by Kakashi’s unexpected laughter, even as he continued to be rather embarrassed. 

They took Gai’s shots – “Pineapple upside-down cake! SO FRESH!” cried Gai – and both suggested Gai get another round – and they drank those too – before they resumed drinking beer.

The alcohol did all sorts of lovely things to Kakashi… provided he was in a good mood. And he was in a good mood, he understood that now. His classes weren’t a total waste of time. He was doing well in them; he’d definitely finish his degree with honors. He was enjoying his weird rag-tag team of twelve-year-olds and watching them come together as friends and tiny teammates.

After watching Gai literally step over the table so he could come to sit by Kakashi instead hanging over Tenzo, Kakashi found himself laughing again, covering the scarred half of his face with a gloved hand. He was smiling under his mask, a real genuine smile, and his friends could tell, based on their matching relieved and thrilled expressions. Gai reached back over to grab Tenzo’s hand and boldly challenged him to an arm wrestling match. Kakashi was pleasantly shocked when Tenzo agreed to the match with undeniable drunken elation. 

It was obvious that Gai was going easy on Tenzo, but then Tenzo’s dark eyes blazed wildly and he threw his whole body into the effort. 

Gai gave a single loud laugh before he, too, put more determined energy into the bout.

Kakashi smirked behind his mask, moving to finish off his beer, when he realized someone was heading back towards their shadowed section of the Hokage Tower. He put down his drink; even while inebriated he did not want to take risk his burns being seen. He instinctively fixed his headband, which he had moved slightly to watch his friends with both eyes.

Before he could adjust it entirely, though, Kakashi caught sight with both his good eye and his half-blind eye just who was coming their way –

Iruka Umino.

He stiffened, which attracted the attention of Tenzo, who instantly lost at arm wrestling. Gai slammed Tenzo’s hand down hard on the table without noticing the distraction. He started to boast boisterously over the bar’s rock music when he, too, noticed Iruka heading their way. 

“Iruka-sensei!” Gai crooned in excitement. He tried to shove Kakashi back against the booth so he could better see the teacher approaching their group, but Kakashi was holding himself too stock still and stiff to be pushed aside so easily. Finding him immovable, Gai drunkenly reconsidered Kakashi, and Kakashi horrifically heard the tell-tale sound of interest fall out of his friend’s mouth as he made his sudden discovery.

A second later, just before Iruka finally closed in on their booth, Gai said right into Kakashi’s exposed ear, “Oh, Kakashi… You should have said something!”

Kakashi threw the most heated, furious look he could muster while drunk back at his friend, but Gai was grinning with all his teeth, completely flushed red from alcohol. He seemed not to notice or care about the unspoken death threat. 

Instead, Gai cried out, “Iruka-sensei! What do we owe this _unbelievable_ pleasure?”

Kakashi was not unaware at how Tenzo was staring at him – and he found himself unable to look anywhere except for Iruka for fear that his drunken idiot friends would suddenly betray him.

It took all of two seconds to recognize that Iruka was also very drunk.

His dark brown hair had come partially loose of his usually tight pony tail, clearly where he had tried to run his hand back through his hair without thinking. Iruka was quite flushed, crimson filling both his cheeks, making his scar stand out even more prominently. His warm eyes seemed scorching as they focused hotly on Kakashi. He’d changed out the sweater from earlier in the day; instead he was wearing a zip-up dark green hoodie that he’d obviously opened wide in an earlier drunken decision, showing a rather transparent plain white shirt over a much more muscular form that Kakashi had been imagining. 

Kakashi redirected his single-eyed gaze back up to Iruka’s face. He knew he looked especially alarmed and thrown by Iruka’s appearance at their booth, but Iruka seemed absolutely unconcerned by Kakashi’s reaction.

Instead, Iruka grabbed his left wrist in one surprisingly fast motion and declared in a wobbly voice, “I want to talk to you – _now_.”

Although totally bewildered by the request, Kakashi still found himself replying immediately.

“Okay.” 

For some reason, he expected that Iruka would talk to him right then and there, but the teacher was having none of it and pulled hard on Kakashi’s wrist. But years of military training would not allow Iruka to have an easy victory, and Kakashi barely shifted at the attempt. However, Gai intervened in a fit of pure intoxicated friendship by shoving Kakashi with both hands as hard he possibly could, which sent Kakashi stumbling right out of the booth and directly into Iruka.

Iruka caught him – quite impressively! – and started moving through the bar after resuming his solid grip around Kakashi’s wrist. 

Kakashi was realizing far too late that he hadn’t moved very much since drinking so much, and rushing through the wild packed bar was making him very disoriented very quickly. He tried to focus down on Iruka, and he was picking up all sorts of confusing things about the other man. He was suddenly quite fixated on the short hairs on the back of Iruka’s neck – and he was thinking about touching Iruka’s neck – and running gloveless hands over Iruka’s bare shoulders – and what would it be like to kiss Iruka with his hair down?

The cool relief of the outside was more than Kakashi had experienced in a long time. Even with most of his face covered up by cloth, the small portion that was exposed gloried in the cold night air. He breathed out unsteadily, trailing behind Iruka as the teacher pulled him further and further away from the Hokage Tower. He wasn’t sure where Iruka was bringing him. Although he was well aware he was thinking through several layers of beer and liquor, Kakashi thought he’d probably follow Iruka a long damn distance before he actually asked where they were going. 

Fortunately, Iruka finally swung him down an alleyway between two closed businesses some distance from the Hokage Tower. He kept moving, bringing Kakashi down to the less lit area of the tight corridor. 

Kakashi glanced up, quite disoriented, at the busted lightbulb outside the laundry business. He was lucky so many people in Konoha were terrible keeping up with their lights…!

When he focused back down on Iruka, he realized the other man was leaning against the far brick wall, raking a terribly heated gaze over Kakashi’s body. 

Kakashi felt his face flush under his mask. He recognized that look, even if he hadn’t experienced it in a long time. 

That was the look of a man who _wanted_ something.

He moved closer to Iruka on instinct. He wasn’t terribly surprised when Iruka reached out and grabbed at the front of his leather jacket, forcing him to step forward the few final paces until they were barely a foot apart. Iruka’s hands held his jacket tighter than he would have thought the drunk teacher could manage. Still, the way Iruka stumbled his fingers against the leather was more predictable, although no less distracting and violently intriguing.

Iruka’s body language had clearly changed from earlier. He was somehow both sheepish and confident; he looked perfectly coy and yet he also seemed to know just what he wanted. 

Kakashi swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, so he left them at his sides, stretching his fingers anxiously against his blue jeans. 

After stroking Kakashi’s leather jacket for a while, Iruka said quietly, “I think you are very rude.”

Kakashi was not sober enough to suppress his laugh. He ended up smiling under his mask, too, because Iruka was right – he was rude. He had been relentlessly rude to Iruka since he first met him.

Iruka moved his right hand up Kakashi’s leather jacket, unknowingly crossing into the territory of Kakashi’s burns two layers lower. While Kakashi stilled suddenly at the realization, Iruka continued, voice low and unwavering, “And you’re mean, too.”

Kakashi blinked. His heart was newly pounding. He wondered if and when he would grab Iruka and push him away. He wondered if he might forcibly kiss the other man. His body was abruptly too conflicted: Kakashi seized up, locking himself in place, distantly watching Iruka caress him through his leather jacket.

“And I would like to kiss you.”

Iruka’s warm brown eyes were downcast, so all Kakashi could really see were his black eyelashes and the lovely length of the scar on his face. He was trying to absorb Iruka’s words, but his drunken mind was muddled and distracted. His cock heard it all perfectly well, though, and he could feel himself getting hard in response to Iruka’s simple suggestion of a kiss.

“Do you?” Kakashi replied after a long moment. His voice came out dark, husky. Good God, he _sounded_ aroused. They hadn’t even touched each other yet! But Kakashi’s attention was fixed on Iruka’s roaming hands, the ones boldly memorizing Kakashi’s leather jacket, and he was imagining all the other things they could touch…

Iruka slowly looked up through his dark lashes at Kakashi. While Kakashi watched, dazed, Iruka’s expression shifted from one of loose contemplation to a dizzyingly sharp look of desire. “Let me kiss you,” Iruka demanded, far _far_ too clearly and wantonly for Kakashi to stand.

Kakashi had not kissed anyone since before the attack eleven months ago. He had imagined kissing people – including Iruka, he could admit shamefully, at least to himself – but faced with the moment, all of his previously prepared strategies evaporated. Kakashi’s voice was a hoarse whisper as he hurriedly leaned forward towards Iruka, “Close your eyes.” 

The fingers of his right hand hooked on his mask, jerking it half down, exposing his mouth. Iruka had already closed his eyes at Kakashi’s request, shifting his head obediently, waiting for Kakashi to lead. That sight itself was too fucking appealing, and Kakashi descended on him like a hungry predator finally finding prey after starving all winter. 

Their lips met desperately and drunkenly, which was probably and strangely to their benefit, because Kakashi felt absolutely no embarrassment when he should have been filled with it. Similarly, Iruka was unrepentant as he fisted Kakashi’s leather jacket with one hand and then forced Kakashi’s body closer by pulling him forward by the hip. Even hidden behind his jeans, it was deliciously obvious that Iruka was hard, that he wanted this, that he wanted Kakashi. 

Soon their overly protected cocks ground against each other at the same pace and vigor as their mouths and tongues. When he could, Kakashi restrained himself from groaning, if only because he was falling in love with how Iruka gasped every once and a while when too overwhelmed with just how _good_ it all felt. 

The pull on his burns on his throat and chest felt different, but Kakashi was surprised by how much alcohol and lust distracted him from the strange feeling. Kakashi found his hands desperately seeking Iruka’s skin. His right hand grabbed the back of Iruka’s head, relishing those short hairs at the nape of his neck, forcefully keeping their faces close together. His left hand went straight for Iruka’s chest, pushing aside the hoodie and groping at Iruka’s pronounced muscles barely hidden by the thin white shirt. 

When he scratched down against Iruka’s nipple, the other man moaned into his mouth and jerked away before pushing hard against Kakashi with his whole body. Kakashi instantly put his leg between Iruka’s, relishing the hardness suddenly shoved against his thigh. Iruka writhed against him at the new intensity, and Kakashi tightened his grip on the back of the man’s neck, roughly trying to pull him back into a kiss.

But Iruka surprised him, moving his mouth to Kakashi’s right ear, the opposite side of his scars. His breath was as mint-heavy as his tongue, and Kakashi felt himself thrust against Iruka, far too enamored with the smell of liquor and lust on the other man. Iruka laughed just slightly, breathing heavily in Kakashi’s ear, before he whispered hotly, “Let me suck your cock.”

Kakashi froze. His good eye fixed blindly on the brick wall behind Iruka. He could feel his fingers tremble against Iruka’s neck, and his heart clamored, ugly and wild, in his chest.

Iruka pulled back, his eyes loosely closed, before he closed the small distance between them again. Kakashi didn’t respond as Iruka pressed a feather-light kiss on his lips. He did nearly startle when Iruka’s hand lifted from Kakashi’s hip to grab his bicep through his leather jacket. Tightly squeezing his arm, Iruka’s breathy begging whisper ghosted against Kakashi’s lips.

“Please, _Kakashi_ …”

A full body shiver flew through him. Kakashi realized he’d made a strange choking sound when he saw Iruka’s mouth slide into a sinister, pleased smile. Kakashi was blushing; he couldn’t control himself in any way, not anymore, not with this extraordinarily sexy man in his arms. He replied in a throaty, dark voice, barely recognizing it was his own, “If you want to.”

Iruka’s hand was on his cock through his jeans the next second.

Kakashi couldn’t repress the groan that the hard, intimate touch inspired, and he flushed even further, seeing Iruka’s smile turn into a predatory grin. He wasn’t expecting how fast Iruka fell to his knees, or how exceptionally talented Iruka was at undoing the button of his jeans and taking down the zipper while keeping his eyes perfectly shut. He realized he was staring down at the man in utter shock, his mouth open and exposed to the night air, as Iruka rubbed his face against Kakashi’s tented boxers like a lecherous cat loving on its owner. 

Iruka was simply too good at multitasking. While he pulled down on Kakashi’s boxers with one hand, he reached out and found Kakashi’s left hand, drawing his fingers forward and positioning them against his own face, forcing Kakashi to caress his cheek. 

Kakashi didn’t know if he would see better or worse with both eyes, but he found himself pushing up his headband, opening his half-blind eye, trying to get the most out of the impossible vision before him.

Iruka looked perfectly comfortable on his knees with his eyes closed. He freed Kakashi’s cock from his boxers with a satisfied smile, stroking him several sure times, causing Kakashi to stifle a simultaneously pained and relieved groan from deep in his throat. Iruka clearly enjoyed the sound, because he kept touching Kakashi, his smile widening as Kakashi involuntarily groaned louder at the achingly good sensation of Iruka’s hand on his cock. 

But he’d suddenly had enough. Iruka opened his mouth and took Kakashi in as if he’d been wanting it desperately for the last two weeks. Iruka’s mouth was _ridiculously_ wet and warm. Kakashi hand on Iruka’s cheek shook frantically when Iruka took all of him like it wasn’t a solid seven inches. He felt his fingers brush the furthest edge of Iruka's facial scar - and his heart jumped in his chest. Kakashi instinctively shut his eyes and gritted his teeth, astonished at how good Iruka’s mouth felt around his cock. His fingers slid backwards, catching some of Iruka’s hair, and he heard Iruka moan around him, and Kakashi realized he was not long for this world.

He forced himself to look at the man, and it was beyond any fantasy that Kakashi could have ever conjured his dead dull mind.

Iruka was so easily on his knees, his kiss-bruised lips at the base of Kakashi’s cock. He moved his head easily, taking Kakashi in and out effortlessly. Iruka continued to stroke him with one hand, his other hand gripping Kakashi’s jeans bunched at his knee. 

Kakashi tried not to thrust into Iruka’s mouth, but he realized he’d done just that when Iruka shook his head slightly, unprepared for the rougher movement. He started to apologize in a fumbling rush when Iruka fully removed Kakashi’s cock from his mouth. 

Iruka kept stroking him, using salvia to keep Kakashi’s cock wet and hard. As he did, Iruka smiled in such an impossible strange way, especially with his eyes closed, that Kakashi was having a difficult time keeping himself both breathing and standing upright. 

As if Iruka wanted him to faint, the man asked in a low, dark tone, still not looking at Kakashi, “Is this how you would fuck me? On my knees like this?”

Kakashi instantly ground out, his fingers tightening on Iruka’s hair, “Fuck, you can’t – you can’t say things like that –”

“Can’t I?” Iruka asked sweetly, because he was pure fucking danger and sex embodied in one single glorious masculine body.

“Yeah, I’d fuck you on your knees,” Kakashi answered, his voice as hard as his cock in Iruka’s rapidly moving hand. He worked to memorize the insanely wonderful visual of Iruka on his knees, gripping Kakashi’s red-flushed cock, his wet lips slightly parted, ready, waiting. 

But before Iruka could respond, Kakashi kept going, his desires spilling out of him, rough and despairing and so sincere that it _hurt_ : “I’d fuck you however you wanted, whenever you wanted. I want to kiss you fucking senseless. I’m fucking _desperate_ to kiss you again.” He knew he was rambling and drunk and being too raw and honest, but Kakashi heard himself finally confessing: “ _You are so fucking pretty_.”

Iruka almost opened his eyes, Kakashi could tell, but he caught himself in time. The flush of alcohol wasn’t so strong that Kakashi didn’t recognize Iruka was now blushing in full flattered embarrassment by Kakashi’s adoring statements. His hand had gone still on Kakashi’s cock; his mouth had dropped open in shock at Kakashi’s unexpected confession.

But before Kakashi could feel mortified through his drunken haze, Iruka took to sucking his cock like the world was ending. At the abrupt resumption of the most intense blowjob of his life, Kakashi gasped loudly, startling himself with the sound. Iruka’s hand tightened, too, continuing to stroke him while sucking him off. Kakashi had to use both his hands to hold the brick wall behind Iruka to keep himself upright. He was soon in an unbearable crescent over the man, unable to keep himself from thrusting into Iruka’s hot eager mouth. 

He half-gasped out a warning, “Iruka – I –”

But Iruka seemed absolutely at peace with Kakashi coming his mouth. He kept his pace, his tongue strong and warm on Kakashi’s cock in his mouth, his hands tight and knowing. 

Kakashi flinched just before he came, disbelieving, blindly thrilled with Iruka. He found himself scratching at the brick wall as Iruka didn’t pull away at all, taking all of him, letting Kakashi cum hard in his mouth. He shook, wild and unexpected, as Iruka licked the very last cum off the tip and then easily, comfortably, put Kakashi’s spent cock back in his boxers. 

Kakashi forced himself off the brick wall, stumbling backward, barely able to keep himself stable. He yanked up his mask with one hand, working to get his jeans back on with the other.

As he slowly rose from his knees, Iruka smiled, pleased beyond measure. He asked in a soft, curious voice, “Can I open my eyes now?”

After shoving his headband down, Kakashi mumbled a rather clumsy, “Uh, yeah,” and Iruka’s truly smug dark brown eyes met his good eye once again. Iruka ran his still very interested gaze over Kakashi, clearly appreciating how disheveled and worn-down Kakashi had become in such a short time. He reached over and ran a knowing hand up Kakashi’s leather jacket, tugging on the very top of the zipper. He closed the distance between them again and pressed a gentle kiss on Kakashi’s masked mouth. 

“I think you’re pretty too,” Iruka murmured, so very satisfied it almost hurt Kakashi to hear him.

As Kakashi tracked his movements with his good eye, Iruka stepped slightly backwards, shifting his stance into one of genuine relief. Just before he dropped his hand from Kakashi’s jacket, Iruka gave him one last amused smile. “Thanks for the good time,” he declared, easy and soft, and then Iruka strolled away, looking like he had won the whole world in the last half-hour. 

Iruka didn’t look back at Kakashi before he exited the alleyway, turning left, obviously heading back to the Hokage Tower.

Kakashi wasn’t going back to the bar. He was walking home _now_. 

Because he had no idea what the fuck just happened, and he needed to think very seriously about life – and Iruka – and – whatever the fuck that just was – and all that would take time, a lot of time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So... this became astonishingly long... probably because it was just so fun to write.
> 
> Decided to split the chapter into two parts for readability. Iruka POV will be Chapter 4 and 5, then back to dear Kakashi, before switching again.
> 
> ___

Iruka fell out of bed.

He barely got an arm under himself in time to avoid smashing his face on the floor. He laid there for a while, wondering what the fuck could possibly have happened to him to make him _this_ sick.

After a long while, Iruka realized he’d had too much to drink the night before at the Hokage Bar. _This_ was much worse than last Saturday, and last Saturday had been _bad_. 

He had the familiar taste of bile in his mouth, the usual sick twisting of his stomach, the crazy loose hair clinging to his face. Iruka pushed himself up to sit against the bed and rubbed at his eyes. He tried to look around his room but found it far too bright. Wincing, Iruka hoisted himself upright and caught a passing glimpse of his nightstand. 

Someone had done him multiple kindnesses: a mostly empty Pedialyte drink, the pink-flaked measuring cup of Pepto medicine, and a tipped-over Ibuprofen bottle sat in a disorderly row on his table.

Iruka wasn’t so clever that he prepared for his heavy drinking sessions, even though he knew he probably should at this point. After finally getting his balance, he shuffled out to the hallway and was not at all surprised to see his hangover angels passed out together on his loveseat. 

Kotetsu was laid out on the bottom, his spiky hair a wicked mess. His pants were undone and down past his hips, revealing red-and-green plaid boxers. Izumo was sprawled on top of him, his face half-buried in Kotetsu’s open zip-up Konoha College jacket. One of Izumo’s hands was stuck down Kotetsu’s pants, like he’d been taking them off the other man but had passed out before he achieved his goal. 

They were so thoroughly unconscious and so obviously in love that Iruka thought about taking a photo to use as a friendly blackmail gift for their next anniversary.

But then he suddenly remembered something from last night.

Iruka was leaning against Kotetsu in their usual booth by the bar, Kotetsu’s dark eyes wide but undeniably deeply interested as he stared back at Iruka. Kotetsu’s hands were firmly gripping the seat and the booth, but Iruka’s fingers had caught Kotetsu’s Konoha College jacket and was toying with the zipper in a slow contemplative manner.

Iruka could hear himself saying to Kotetsu, his voice low, leisured, and amused, “You are _very_ cute, Kotetsu, but it’s not you I want to fuck.”

Iruka flushed from his neck to his ears and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He instantly shoved his back against the door, staring wildly at himself the huge mirror of his bathroom. He looked a total fucking mess: his loose brown hair was stuck every which way, and his embarrassed blush made his tan skin splotchy when combined with the ugly residual effects of alcohol poisoning. He was still in the white T-shirt from the night before – but in a different pair of boxers. 

Iruka desperately tried to remember the context of the scene that had sprung to his mind. Where was Izumo when Iruka had…? Iruka hadn’t done that in secret, had he?

But, no, he hadn’t. Iruka could just see Izumo in his mind’s eye, apparently right after he made his lewd comment and finished pawing brazenly at Kotetsu. Izumo had been gawking at him from across the booth, totally flushed from alcohol – or arousal or – both? And then Izumo was stammering, “Iruka – he didn’t mean anything –” Kotetsu had shuddered under Iruka’s hand as Iruka pushed off his chest and shrugged, looking away from both of them, blearily surveying the bar. Iruka had said something offhanded and nasty, something like, “He flirts too much. You should keep him in line,” and Izumo had kicked Kotetsu hard under the table.

 _Jesus Christ_. Of course Kotetsu was a flirt: he’d been a flirt since they started hanging out years ago as undergrads. The man never meant a damn second of it! Iruka knew that, he _really_ knew that. Why would he suddenly be so bothered by Kotetsu now? Why go after him like that? 

And then – 

Holy shit. _Iruka had given a man a blowjob last night_.

Oh God. Had he – with Kotetsu? … Izumo? No! Definitely not. Right…?

Iruka pressed his hands hard against his face. He was trying to force the memory out of his head, but he was just stirring up the severe anguish of his hangover. The throbbing pain bouncing between his temples made the whole thing a total horrid disaster. But _Jesus_ , he had to remember –

Wait. Wait a second. 

Lowering his hands slowly, Iruka stared at himself in the mirror.

He had spotted Kakashi Hatake from across the bar.

Kakashi was sitting in the farthest back corner of the Hokage Tower, his shock of silver hair crazy beautiful in the low lighting.

And Iruka had declared, “That’s the guy I want to fuck.” 

Then he had deserted his two friends, worked his way through the crowd, and directly approached Kakashi. He could just barely remember Gai and another man at the table; Gai had been very excited to see him, but he had pushed Kakashi to go with Iruka too. 

Iruka had dragged Kakashi outside the bar… and down by the laundry service he used? Iruka had stopped at the alleyway between Mr. Bee’s Dry Cleaning and Ramen Ichiraku. And he had –

Oh. Oh, no.

Iruka looked down at his hands and shakily brought his fingers to his face. 

Inglorious to be sure, but, wow, yes, he definitely smelled like leather and sex. And both scents belonged to Kakashi Hatake.

Iruka threw himself into the shower. As he tore off his clothing, suddenly dousing himself in cold water, Iruka realized all too horribly that he had definitely jerked off and changed boxers last night but had not cleaned himself thoroughly enough. He couldn’t contain the insane flush of embarrassment that engulfed him, and the cold water didn’t do a damn thing to tamper his mortification. He proceeded to clean himself with the obsessive franticness of a madman. 

He could _not_ believe himself.

His first time since Mizuki was with the man who had reminded him of his shitty ex-boyfriend.

Iruka felt ridiculously sick, and he knew it wasn’t just the awful hangover. He couldn’t fathom what his drunk self had been thinking. Kakashi Hatake had been so _so_ rude to him…

Oh God, wait, he had said that to Kakashi, hadn’t he?

Iruka froze in place in the shower. He had told Kakashi he was rude – and Kakashi had laughed in clear agreement with him? And… Iruka also told Kakashi he was mean, causing Kakashi to go very still under his hands as he caressed Kakashi’s leather jacket. 

And then Iruka had said he wanted to kiss him. _He’d admitted he wanted to kiss Kakashi_.

Once he understood the initial context, Iruka definitely remembered what happened next: he and Kakashi had made out like hormone-crazed teenagers. His hand involuntarily went to his lips; he found them swollen and bruised after particularly hard kissing. His fingers drifted to the back of his head to his neck where Kakashi had held him possessively, desperately. 

Oh… Kakashi had felt him up. He had groped Iruka’s chest, clearly wanting Iruka’s shirt out of the way, impatiently seeking bare skin.

Iruka stared down at himself. He was having a hard time understanding why he couldn’t remember _seeing_ much of his time with Kakashi, although he was easily able to conjure how everything had _felt_.

Because Kakashi had said to close his eyes – and Iruka had done it right away, obediently.

Iruka couldn’t believe it but somehow he was blushing even harder at the realization of his easy and instant consent. For his earlier proclaimed desire of wanting to fuck Kakashi, he had apparently become rather submissive when the moment had arisen between the two of them. 

Jesus. He was the one who suggested the blowjob, wasn’t he?

Iruka laughed suddenly, closing his eyes and tilting his head towards the ceiling. That sounded about right. He remembered feeling Kakashi stiffen against him, obviously unprepared for the request, and then Iruka had begged him in a delicate whisper… 

… using Kakashi’s first name for the first time.

He laughed harder, covering half his face with his hand. Oh, yeah. That made sense. It seemed so fitting that he would figure out Kakashi Hatake – just who the man really was under the whole asshole façade – and then decide – well, now I totally should drag him to a private location and seduce him and suck his cock and –

Iruka abruptly paused in his laughter as he made one final realization: Kakashi had called him pretty. No… Not just that. _I am so fucking desperate to kiss you again. You are so fucking pretty_. 

And something else – what was it? – Iruka blinked, staring blankly at the shower wall. 

He’d asked if Kakashi wanted to fuck him on his knees. And Kakashi had said… yes. But more than that – Kakashi had said… he would fuck Iruka however _Iruka_ wanted… whenever _Iruka_ wanted.

Iruka found himself sitting down in the shower, wholly unbothered by the cold water crashing down on his nude form. None of those answers seemed like the frantic hate-sex that he had first considered their encounter in the alleyway to be. 

Why tell Iruka he was pretty – not just that, but _so fucking pretty?_ And why not just say ‘Yeah, of course I’d fuck you on your knees, now get back to sucking my cock’? 

Why say – _whatever you want_?

He was staring at the drain swirling with his stray hair and the cold water when Iruka realized that he must have left Kakashi alone in the alleyway after giving him the blowjob. He must have returned to Kotetsu and Izumo, and they must have brought him home. He couldn’t remember what he told them – but he could recall that he had been smiling wide when he came back to the bar, like a cat who had successfully caught prey and was proudly parading after his kill.

Iruka turned off the shower and dried himself off with a towel, his mind becoming increasingly busy with newer and more confusing thoughts. He walked vacantly to his bedroom, dressing in loose comfortable clothing, before he wandered back out the living room, unsure what he should be doing or thinking.

Izumo was sitting up, forcing his hair back into place over the ride side of his face. He gave Iruka an immediate and knowing smirk when he spotted him in the hallway. “So…” Izumo mused aloud, staring straight at Iruka, who froze at the intensity of his friend’s look. “Was that the ‘complete asshole’ that got you so upset last week?”

Iruka shrunk back against the wall across from the loveseat. He found he couldn’t tear his gaze from Izumo’s, but he managed to say quietly, unbearably embarrassed, “Yeah, that was him.”

Kotetsu stretched out on the loveseat, running a hand through his dark hair. More of his chiseled chest and stomach were exposed, but Iruka was much more concerned with the malicious expression spreading across his friend’s face. Flashing a grin at Iruka, Kotetsu practically purred, “Do you remember what you said to us when you came back?”

Iruka covered his face with both hands and mumbled, feeling physically pained, “No…”

Both of his friends laughed at his embarrassed response. Kotetsu audibly got up off the loveseat, fixing his pants, and came to stand in front of Iruka. He patted Iruka’s shoulder amiably and proclaimed while holding back laughter, “You said, and I quote, ‘Okay, so this time he fucked my mouth, but, I swear to God, I’m getting that ass.’”

Iruka slumped down the wall and tried not to die.

**

Avoiding Kakashi was extremely easy on Sunday and Monday, but Tuesday presented real challenges: Iruka found himself arriving fantastically early and practically hiding in the woods before he jumped out and dragged his group of elementary school kids away on a prolonged hike around the lake. He was determined to avoid Gai, too, which was its own hellish adventure because Gai was like the fucking sun – brilliant, burning, and everywhere at once. 

But he managed it somehow. He found himself lurking in the woods like a serial killer for more than an hour after the schoolchildren had left. He took a late bus home, never once seeing Gai or Kakashi, and he thanked God every second for his luck.

Wednesday went well, too. He flew to class and ran home, never getting a glimpse of either man. 

Fortunately, Izumo and Kotetsu had no problem hanging out at his apartment instead of visiting their favorite haunt, the Hokage Tower. Of course, they teased him relentlessly at every opportunity, but it was worth it not to have to face his very physical, literal demons so soon.

His luck ran out on Thursday, but it was Gai, not Kakashi, who found him first.

Iruka was putting a band-aid on the knee of a little dark-haired nine-year-old when he heard Gai behind him, proclaiming in an enthusiastic voice, “Iruka-sensei is so kind to the weak and wounded!” The girl giggled more at Gai’s loudness than his words, and then she scrambled away, too embarrassed to stay the center of attention.

Iruka slowly turned around, initially unable to meet Gai’s passionate gaze. “Oh, Gai-sensei,” he mumbled, inexplicably finding himself blushing a little. “How are you doing today?”

Gai clearly struck a pose, which forced Iruka look up at him. He was doing his usual thumbs up – this time quite close to Iruka’s face – and his radiant grin was ridiculously infectious. “Truly joyful!” Gai declared, throwing a theatrical wink at Iruka. “I am so happy to see you again. I was worried you might have died!”

Iruka stared at him for a long moment before asking slowly, “What do you mean?”

Gai lowered his arm, which he rested instantly on his hip, looking out towards the parking lot like a noble stone statue of a general leading troops into battle. “You were so inebriated on Saturday – and then I did not see you Tuesday with the children! I thought to myself, what a terrible loss for the world, if Iruka-sensei has died!”

Iruka winced, but he was soon laughing in embarrassment. “Oh, no,” he admitted quickly. “I was here. Just in the back by the lake.”

Gai looked at Iruka more seriously. His pose lessened as his expression turned increasingly reflective. “Were you –” Gai began to ask, but then he stopped himself so abruptly and forcefully that Iruka heard his teeth colliding as he shut his mouth. He stared at Iruka with big intense black eyes before he nodded far too mechanically and said in a truly strange voice, “It is good you are alive, Iruka-sensei. I will see you on Saturday!” 

As Iruka watched, Gai’s face went pink, and he stammered, “Here. I will see you here at the Recreation Center on Saturday, this Saturday.” 

And then Gai pivoted hard on one foot and ran back to his team on the soccer field.

Iruka stared after his friend, feeling very much like their interaction had gone both incredibly well and horribly wrong. He returned to his students rather distracted, finishing out the hour before heading to the bus-stop at a frantic but confused pace. He didn’t catch sight of Kakashi, but he assumed that the man was around. He saw Naruto trailing after Sasuke and Sakura off in the distance, but the kids didn’t notice him, being far too obsessed with each other.

A small disconcerting part of Iruka wanted to see and maybe even seek out Kakashi at the Rec Center, but instead he got on the bus and avoided looking out the window.

It was Friday when he discovered that Kakashi was done playing games.

He was about to enter Hiruzen Hall for his Friday afternoon class when he felt a familiar hand enclose around his bicep – at the nearly the same place and time as the Friday before.

Iruka looked sharply up and found Kakashi Hatake looking down at him with one intense black eye, the rest of his face covered by his usual soft blue mask and the darker headband half-containing his unruly silver hair. Iruka’s heart jumped right into his throat, and he blinked several times, inordinately more startled than he should have been. He pulled back slightly, quickly, and Kakashi dropped his arm straightaway, but the man didn’t leave him, instead closing in further on him. Iruka instinctively backed away, not wanting to be crowded, but Kakashi was intent on staying in his personal space. He glanced around and spotted the smoker’s alcove that Kakashi had dragged him into last time, heading there in record time. 

He turned around and saw Kakashi had followed him, practically on his heels. The man was as tall and lean and pretty as ever: he was wearing his usual black leather jacket and tight blue jeans, but this time his high-top Converses were a bright scarlet-red color. His silver hair and blue mask and headband were much the same, too: strange but refined, suiting him perfectly. 

Kakashi looked a bit more tired than what Iruka remembered him ever appearing. His shoulders were bunched defensively; his hands were not in his jeans pockets but his jacket pockets. Before Iruka could say anything, Kakashi demanded flatly, his visible eye narrowing but still locked on Iruka, “What was that about?”

For some reason, Iruka responded instantly, “What was _what_?”

He definitely knew what Kakashi was referencing, but Iruka snapped out the first thing that came to mind, and he stuck with it, staring steadfast and unblinking right back at Kakashi.

In contrast, Kakashi’s eye widened, and he brought his head back, as if wanting to look at Iruka better. He seemed to scrutinize Iruka for a moment before he clarified slowly, “Saturday night.” He paused then added in an even tone, “You and me.”

The intensity of Kakashi’s single-eyed gaze was unsettling; Iruka felt absolutely seen and totally transparent. He could feel a blush saturate his scarred cheeks. He resettled his books against his chest and forced himself to survive eye contact with the other man. 

Iruka imagined this exact conversation might happen, and he had planned a few different responses, but, looking up at Kakashi’s fierce and mostly hidden expression, he found himself explaining in a short, clipped fashion: “We were drunk, and we made a mistake. Now excuse me.”

He made it about two steps away before Kakashi’s hand was on his arm again, but this time Iruka was not having it. He stopped in place. Without looking back, Iruka warned tightly, “You need to let me go, now.”

He could see Kakashi’s gloved hand shift in surprise on his arm and then disappear behind him. Iruka relaxed instinctively. He could still remember all the times that Mizuki had grabbed him aggressively, and fuck it if he was going to let that start happening again with yet another man. He gave an irritated sigh while shaking his head before he went into Hiruzen Hall, leaving Kakashi alone behind him yet again.

Iruka only lasted forty-five minutes into his three-hour grad-level class before he felt immense and suffocating guilt start to smother him. He barely heard the professor after that; he was instead replaying his own words to Kakashi over and over in his head. 

Had it really been a mistake? Iruka had been very, _very_ drunk, certainly, and Kakashi, too, but… He hadn’t accidentally pursued Kakashi. It wasn’t as if Iruka had picked a random man out of the crowd and dragged him away to an even more random location. He’d been cognizant enough to push Kotetsu away, to find and lead Kakashi out of the bar, to walk back to the Hokage Tower alone. Iruka had even chosen the alleyway because he _knew_ that no one frequented that alleyway on Saturday nights: he’d walked by it often enough the last year to know it was always empty and half-lit and out of the sight of cars.

Based on what he remembered of the night – and what Kotetsu and Izumo told him – he had targeted Kakashi from start to finish. Sure, Kakashi had consented at every step, but Iruka had been the one who asked to kiss him… _he_ had begged to suck Kakashi’s cock.

He repressed a frustrated groan, growing afraid that his professor would notice how distracted he was, but Iruka knew he was done. He wouldn’t be able to focus on the rest of class. When they finally made it to the halfway break, Iruka apologized to his dear professor, claiming sudden illness. He slipped away into the early afternoon, uncertain where he was going but knowing he couldn’t stay in the classroom anymore.

He looked worriedly at the smoker’s alcove, almost expecting Kakashi to still be there, but the man was understandably gone. Iruka brushed a hand over his face: he was fucking up this thing every step of the way. But, then again, Kakashi was so unpredictable, and he could fluster Iruka far too easily… except when Iruka was drunk, and then apparently the tables turned. 

Walking aimlessly across campus, Iruka finally decided he would have to do the very last thing he wanted to do: he texted Gai, asking for Kakashi’s number.

Iruka nearly slammed into a bike rack when he received Gai’s response.

_I am sorry, Iruka-sensei, but I cannot share Kakashi’s information._

Iruka stared, both amazed and crushed, at his phone. He wondered if there was a different invisible end to Gai’s sentence --- _I cannot share Kakashi’s information… with you_.

He suddenly felt very stupid and embarrassed and yet again like he wanted to die.

The bus ride home was chilly and depressing. When he made it back to his apartment, Iruka tried to melt into his loveseat. He changed into pajamas at some point, if only because he suddenly hated everything about himself, and fuck, he was going to at least feel physically comfortable while he committed himself to self-loathing. Iruka contemplated dinner – or ice cream – or alcohol – and ultimately decided on nothing at all, resolving to stare emptily at his laptop, watching animal documentaries on Netflix voiced-over by a lovely older British gentleman.

When he heard a knock on his door, Iruka naturally assumed it was Kotetsu and Izumo dropping by unannounced, and he opened the door wide, already moving aside to let his friends inside.

Instead, Iruka looked up to find Kakashi Hatake staring at him from the top of his staircase.


	5. Chapter 5

Kakashi Hatake was staring at him from the top of his staircase. 

Unbelievably shocked, Iruka could only gape at him at first. After several long bewildering moments, he finally managed to stammer out, “How do you know where I live?”

“I don’t understand how it’s a mistake,” Kakashi answered in complete monotone. 

Iruka startled, his expression turning incredulous. He looked over Kakashi, realizing the man was wearing the same thing as three hours ago, but he appeared _even more_ tired now. Kakashi’s headband was dipped further down his head, showing the slightest edge of his right silver eyebrow, which was strangely immensely interesting. His visible dark eye was fixed on Iruka again; he was frowning deeply behind his blue mask.

Iruka wavered in the doorway, thrown to have Kakashi at his doorstep. He finally muttered rather awkwardly, “It wasn’t a mistake. I – I definitely went after you.”

Kakashi’s expression changed almost instantly. His face had been scrunched up, his half-concealed eyebrows furrowed down as he stared hard at Iruka. But upon hearing Iruka’s admission, Kakashi blinked just once: the furious tension immediately evaporated his face, a remarkable change with the vast majority of his expression hidden away. 

Kakashi shifted more uncomfortably on top step of the staircase, glancing down Iruka’s face to once again examine Iruka’s scar. Kakashi had done that several times now, and Iruka imagined it had something to do with whatever Kakashi was hiding by his mask and headband. But, for whatever reason, Iruka had never found himself offended by the man’s roving gaze. 

Instead, Iruka felt more than a bit embarrassed because he was wearing his pajamas at 5 P.M. on a Friday: he was clearly a man with no intention to leave his house on what was usually the start of the weekend party scene. He also felt exposed in his loose shorts and oversized T-shirt, especially when Kakashi looked like how he always did with that damnable fine leather jacket and form-fitting blue jeans. Did the man sleep in the same outfit too…?

Feeling bizarrely trapped in his doorway, Iruka blurted out, “I just don’t normally do hate-sex.” 

He stared wide-eyed at Kakashi as soon as he said it, his awkward humiliation becoming worse as the other man looked back at him in sincere surprise. Kakashi moved his hands in his jacket pockets, unintentionally flexing his arms, as he worked through what Iruka had suddenly, unexpectedly declared.

Iruka was wondering how many times in one week that he would feel like dying. This time, it was all too similar to Sunday morning – he wanted to dissolve into dust to avoid the sheer fucking embarrassment of the present horrible situation in which he was a half-willing participant. 

Iruka knew he was flushed fully red. He almost averted his gaze away from Kakashi, feeling unable to keep eye contact, but then Kakashi slowly admitted, seeming remarkably reluctant to do so: “I don’t actually hate you.”

“You called me a motherfucker,” Iruka replied instantly, fury flying through him. He crossed his arms over his chest, shoving himself against his open door, giving Kakashi his most withering and disapproving expression. 

Kakashi blinked and shifted his weight to his other foot. He appeared immediately contrite –  
but was also obviously unable to apologize. Shrugging with his hands still in his leather jacket, he acknowledged in a simple, impassive way, “I may have insulted you, but I don’t hate you.” 

Iruka continued to glare at him apparently a moment too long because then Kakashi said, much more sharply, raising his head and looking rather incensed at him, “You said you don’t know why Gai likes me.” Iruka recoiled at the comment, losing some of the tension in his stance, even more so when Kakashi suddenly looked away from him entirely, squaring his shoulders, and added, sounding actually rather hurt, “That was a low blow.”

Iruka had to stop himself from moving forward and grabbing Kakashi – the man looked so very pitiful! 

Instead, Iruka uncrossed his arms and propped open the door, glancing down at three feet of cement between them. “I’m sorry about that, I – I just couldn’t believe he… and you…” Iruka trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

Sounding entirely unfazed, Kakashi concluded for him: “Gai is an infinitely better person than me, yeah, I know.”

Iruka jerked his gaze back up to Kakashi, who was back to staring at him in his effortlessly intense way. Iruka really could not get over how dreamy and strange Kakashi looked: the mask somehow added to his whole mysterious bad boy appeal. It was secretly rather thrilling to have such a fascinating person on his doorstep. Fighting a blush, Iruka found himself saying suddenly, “Okay, so I guess it wasn’t hate-sex, then.” 

Kakashi’s single-eyed gaze sharpened on Iruka. He tilted his head, his silver hair fluttering to the side, as he asked in a quiet voice, “So, what was it then?”

Warmth unexpectedly rushed through Iruka’s body. He felt transfixed by Kakashi’s barely visible expression; he couldn’t get over the drunken image of himself on his knees, the feel of Kakashi’s hard cock in his moving hand, the sound of Kakashi harshly panting above him. Iruka lowered his eyes before glancing up at the other man through his lashes, leading Kakashi to straighten out of his slouch and give Iruka even sharper attention. 

“I would say…” Iruka mused, sounding far more sensual than he meant to, “that it was sex.” He surprised himself by letting his gaze wander down Kakashi’s lean, fascinating form. He bit at his bottom lip, remembering how bruised his mouth was on Sunday morning, suddenly wanting that again.

Kakashi fixed on Iruka’s lips for a second… before he took a single step up the staircase and stood on the cement entryway to Iruka’s apartment.

Iruka’s heart skipped. 

His could feel his pulse in his throat; he had to use the door to keep from shaking outright. He could tell that Kakashi was tense, unsure: the strange silver-haired man was holding himself with such eerie stillness that Iruka felt like a leaf trembling in a windstorm in comparison. 

Iruka stretched his hand over the doorknob and moved slightly aside, keeping his back flat against the door. He proposed quietly, struggling to keep up such intense eye contact with the other man, “Do you want to come inside?”

Kakashi seemed to stay very still. 

But then Iruka noticed that Kakashi was breathing harder than he first thought: his chest was moving rapidly under his leather jacket. When he paid more attention to the man, Iruka also realized that Kakashi’s shoulders were just barely trembling – out of restraint? fear? want?

Kakashi had not moved his single-eyed gaze from Iruka’s face. No, not his face. Not his scar, either. Kakashi was desperately searching Iruka’s eyes, wanting to find something. The truth? What Iruka was thinking, what he was really thinking?

 _Too bad, Kakashi_ , Iruka dryly thought to himself. _I’m not thinking at all_. 

He suddenly stepped out on the cement entryway and grabbed Kakashi’s jacket, recalling that he had done something very similar last weekend. Glancing up at a startled looking Kakashi, Iruka gave him a smile and proposed shortly, “Come inside.”

Kakashi nodded obediently, not saying a word. He let himself be led into Iruka’s apartment, stepping aside when Iruka moved to close the front door. He moved so gracefully and exuded such presence that it was hard for Iruka to understand how Kakashi could be so nervous. 

As he locked the front door, Iruka fought an amused smile from overtaking his face: he was being too bold again, dragging Kakashi into his apartment, just like he had brought the man down the alleyway. 

Well, fuck it – the worst thing that could happen was only –

Iruka realized that Kakashi had stepped very close to him the moment that he started to turn around. He blinked up in surprise as he found Kakashi nearly atop him, and he instinctively pressed his back against the closed front door. Kakashi brought his right hand out of his leather jacket and gently placed it above Iruka against the door. His visible eye had grown darker with desire, and, although most of his face remained as covered as ever, Kakashi’s sharp focus was entirely devoted to reading Iruka. As Kakashi leaned in towards him, Iruka caught the heady heated scent of Kakashi’s cologne, something stirringly masculine that he himself couldn’t pull off. Iruka didn’t move, his heart in a wild wondrous panic, wanting to know what Kakashi would do with his mask still on his face.

Would he try to kiss Iruka through his mask…?

Kakashi instead hovered uncertainly over Iruka’s mouth before he glanced up, meeting Iruka’s gaze, and requested, his voice husky, “Would you mind closing your eyes?”

Iruka brought his hands up from shaking against the door and clutched at the bottom of Kakashi’s leather jacket. He pulled him forward, forcing their bodies together, and relished his first sober look and feel of Kakashi becoming aroused. The silver-haired man was certainly a distressing enigma, but he was also so weak and wanting that it thrilled Iruka that he was able to get a reaction out of him. 

Kakashi’s hot, heavy breath was evident through his mask. His eye fluttered shut as Iruka ground his hips against Kakashi’s, his growing erection much more obvious than Kakashi’s, even though the man’s jeans were suddenly far too tight to contain him comfortably. 

Iruka gave a slight laugh against Kakashi’s masked mouth; it was an unexpected laugh of relief and surprise. They weren’t hate-fucking, that was obvious now. Kakashi was far too sincere and strained, and Iruka found himself really wanting to help the man enjoy himself. He finally closed his eyes and said with an amused tilt to his words, “Yeah, I can do that for you.”

He was utterly unprepared for Kakashi to kiss him as hard as he did. Iruka found himself flat against his closed front door, Kakashi’s long body flush with his. He remembered some of this now – how Kakashi had seemed desperate, anxious, obsessive when they were kissing in the alleyway – and how he had loved every second of it. He had been – and was now again – astounded that the man who he had imagined hating him was so obviously captivated by him. 

Kakashi’s free hand did the same thing as last Saturday, running fingers over Iruka’s barely clad abdomen and chest, relishing Iruka’s refined muscles. Iruka found his own hands cupping Kakashi’s ass, grabbing him through his jeans, urging Kakashi to grind harder against him.

The initial seconds were too blurry with excitement and pleasure to pay attention to anything more than Kakashi’s intense, even unforgiving kisses. 

But Iruka finally noticed something that he hazily remembered from Saturday. 

Kakashi had burns on his face.

He knew enough about scars, and Kakashi didn’t just have scars. He had _burns_. Large portions of Kakashi’s skin were raised and textured differently; some parts were like that in thick segments, but others were specks of noticeable difference beside what felt like normal skin. 

Iruka had his eyes closed as requested, but he could almost imagine the color disparity when whatever happened… had first happened to Kakashi. Red-pink burns would have been amazingly stark beside Kakashi’s snow-white skin. He could feel the burns on Kakashi’s chin – and some on his cheeks – as they moved every once and a while, both adjusting their faces to kiss differently, to kiss deeper. 

He knew they came from Kakashi’s time overseas. That didn’t need to be said.

Instead of feeling repulsed, ridiculous compassion surged through Iruka. He didn’t sympathize out of turn with Kakashi: he didn’t think the man was a hero for his service or a martyr for some cause. But he knew – he knew, deep down in his bones – that Kakashi was ashamed of his face – that he hid his face from the world behind a defensive mask because he was afraid of judgment – and, _holy shit, he was letting Iruka kiss him anyway_.

Iruka pushed hard against Kakashi. He could tell Kakashi’s instincts were to either hold still or even push back, but Kakashi let himself be moved. 

Iruka had Kakashi against the living room wall across from his loveseat a moment later. His right hand was stroking Kakashi through his jeans, worshipping the very feel of Kakashi’s hard cock demanding to be freed from its constraints. His left hand had found Kakashi’s bicep, which he vaguely recalled grabbing when he asked Kakashi if he could suck his cock…

Kakashi was panting loudly by Iruka’s ear, practically resting his head on Iruka’s shoulder. He seemed so wonderfully weak and confused, and Iruka felt almost sadistically empowered by how much he was affecting the other man. But he didn’t want anything cruel to happen between them, and he was soon asking in a breathy, dark voice, “Did you mean it – when you said you would do anything to kiss me again?”

Kakashi rubbed his forehead into Iruka’s shoulder, both of his hands coming up to grab Iruka hard on his waist. His fingers clenched on and off; they were shaking against Iruka’s bare skin. Kakashi could barely be heard as he muttered brokenly, “Yes… Yes.”

Iruka let himself lick Kakashi’s earlobe and terribly enjoyed the feeling of Kakashi’s subsequent response: his cock twitched behind his jeans against Iruka’s palm, and his breath hitched before returning to its irregular desperate pace. 

Keeping them tightly together and Kakashi flat against the wall, Iruka asked, feeling surprisingly fragile, “Do you really find me pretty?”

He was glad that he couldn’t look at Kakashi, and he was even more relieved that Kakashi couldn’t see him, either, not with him being so pressed against Iruka, his head buried in the crook of Iruka’s shoulder and neck. Iruka knew he was blushing not just from arousal but genuine embarrassment: he dizzily thought to himself that he had only heard a few men say such nice things to him, and they had all been wanting him carnally and would have said just about anything to fuck him. 

What he remembered from Kakashi’s confession – the man hadn’t seemed ugly and wanting, he had sounded that sort of stupid sincere that alcohol and arousal could accidentally produce at times.

Kakashi forced his head up some; his lips were suddenly on Iruka’s bare throat. He kissed Iruka there, hard, insistent, almost in a panicked way. Iruka could feel some of Kakashi’s burns, but he was already focused on other things, such as the way Kakashi’s fingers dug down past the elastic band of his shorts, his nails delicate and sharp against Iruka’s hipbones. 

Kakashi surprised Iruka by answering breathily, “Yes… you’re so fucking pretty it hurts,” before he licked at what Iruka was now realizing was his jugular vein, running his tongue up and down the hidden artery, like he was chasing the blood pouring down to Iruka’s heart and cock.

Iruka exhaled unsteadily into Kakashi’s silver hair. He felt dumbly overwhelmed by the praise. He could tell – and he was so stunned by it – that Kakashi was being wholly honest and vulnerable with him. Although he didn’t understand why Kakashi was being so truthful and open with him, he was lapping it up like a man dying of dehydration out in the desert finally discovering an oasis and bathing wildly in its cool waters.

He forced Kakashi’s head back with a brutal twist of his hair. Although Kakashi seemed surprised by the move, he was immediately melting into Iruka a moment later when Iruka gave him a searing passionate kiss. Kakashi’s fingers were gripping Iruka’s hips so hard that it was sending blinking pain signals to Iruka’s conflicted brain. But it somehow felt good in all the confusing rush of sensations, and Iruka moved back slightly, keeping his lips over Kakashi’s as he asked in a swift, confident breath, “Do you want to fuck me?”

“Yes, God yes,” Kakashi instantly replied. They were so close that Iruka could feel Kakashi’s eyelashes flutter against his cheek from his one unhidden eye. Kakashi was suddenly breathing rougher like he was having a hard time swallowing down oxygen. He went to kiss Iruka again, but Iruka pulled away just in time, grabbing Kakashi’s wrist and directing him back to his bedroom. 

Not looking at Kakashi, Iruka let his eyes slip open to find his way. They managed to get halfway to his bed when Kakashi stopped suddenly and so solidly that Iruka spun back around and had to catch himself from looking at the other man. Before he could shut his eyes, he saw Kakashi gesture towards his leather jacket, high up, around his sternum, and the silver-haired man abruptly said, “Iruka, I can’t – I don’t think I can –”

Suddenly not wanting to close his eyes, but also very clearly not looking up at Kakashi’s face, Iruka touched Kakashi’s hand floating over his upper chest and quickly reassured him, “I don’t want to take off my shirt, either, it’s fine.” He paused and then asked, smiling a little, “Could you take off your jacket? It’s a really great jacket, but I don’t think I want to get fucked with you wearing it.”

Kakashi laughed once at his comment, and Iruka felt a wild thrill course through him as Kakashi took back his hand and unzipped his eternally-present leather jacket. He easily shrugged it off and dropped it to the ground. Still not daring to look further up, Iruka got his first look of what Kakashi wore underneath: a high-necked, long-sleeved midnight blue shirt made from what appeared to be soft cotton. 

He kept his eyes down, wanting to give Kakashi his privacy, and so he was caught by surprise when Kakashi suddenly moved forward, far too fast, and kissed him disastrously hard and with such force that Iruka could only answer by clinging to his newly revealed shoulders. His right hand could sense out something unusual under Kakashi’s shirt, something different about his hidden skin, but his brain was exploding to bits, and he found he really couldn’t have cared less.

After a few more seconds of intense kissing, Iruka fell back on his bed at Kakashi’s insistence. Before he could move to lay correctly on the bed and put his head on the pillow at the headrest instead of being sprawled across it horizontally, Kakashi pulled him back, keeping him halfway off the bed, leaving Iruka’s feet just barely off the floor with his back on the bed.

Iruka gasped aloud when Kakashi roughly pushed up his shirt and started kissing his bare stomach. Iruka’s hands found purchase on the edge of the mattress, and he found his head tossed aside, his eyes tightly closing at the wonderful feeling of Kakashi kissing so close to his cock. He gave a soft wordless cry when Kakashi abruptly drew down his boxers and shorts and licked the length of his arousal. Iruka felt himself instinctively thrusting up, wanting more, and Kakashi huffed a laugh against his most intimate skin before he took Iruka’s cock into his mouth with obvious and considerable desire. 

Impressively, Kakashi kept working on Iruka’s clothing, taking his shorts entirely off, while he bobbed up and down on Iruka’s cock, his tongue just as obsessive and adoring as his kisses were. Iruka knew he was moaning shamelessly, but he found again he just didn’t care. He had to fight back the impulse to grab Kakashi’s head and shove him down on his cock. There was the faint memory of Kakashi pushing too hard into _his_ throat – and he felt flushed and ridiculous knowing that he wanted to do the same thing so soon to the other man.

“Do you –” Kakashi murmured after taking Iruka out of his mouth. He paused to lick the thick base of Iruka’s cock, as if he had gotten distracted, before he continued, speaking low, “Do you have any lube?”

Iruka felt far too dizzy and disoriented to answer, but he heard himself replying, “In the nightstand.” 

Kakashi clearly didn’t want to move, but he finally did. Iruka tried not to be alarmed how very fast the other man was: one second he was licking at Iruka’s cock, the next he was gone, but then a second later, he was back between Iruka’s legs. Iruka worked out quite a lot, and he could keep up a pretty good run, but he was _not remotely_ that swift on his feet. Kakashi was bewilderingly quick… Iruka felt impressed and just a little emasculated for some silly reason.

That intimidated feeling intensified as Kakashi unexpectedly hoisted him up, bringing Iruka’s legs over his shoulders, and then Iruka found himself gasping aloud as Kakashi’s tongue went straight to his most sensitive place. One of Iruka’s hands grabbed at his disheveled sheets, but the other tried to find something of Kakashi to clutch onto, even if he couldn’t see the other man. 

Kakashi must have noticed his searching hand, but he caught Iruka’s fingers with his own, even as he took obvious and serious pride in licking him open. 

Iruka felt so flushed and confused by how fast everything was happening that he couldn’t fathom how very good it all felt – until his body relaxed just a little bit more, and Kakashi’s tongue actually entered him.

Then he threw his head back, and his legs tightened hard on Kakashi’s shoulders, forcing him closer and his tongue, deeper. Kakashi clearly liked that, even as he laughed slightly, and Kakashi’s fingers dug into Iruka’s palm as he tongue-fucked him with terrible exquisite skill.

He continued for a good long while, which only made Iruka feel more and more shameless, his moans going totally out of his control. But Kakashi eventually replaced his tongue with fingers, and he rediscovered Iruka’s cock after detangling himself from the intense grip of Iruka’s legs around his shoulders and neck. 

Kakashi was obviously thrilled with opening Iruka further up, and he took his damn time, which some part of Iruka appreciated, having very much not been with anyone during the last seven months, not since Mizuki, but, holy hell, he wanted to get fucked and now –

He must have said as much, even though Iruka didn’t actually remember doing so, because Kakashi suddenly laughed breathily by his thigh and answered him, “Okay, yeah, we can fuck now.”

Iruka wanted desperately to see Kakashi’s cock. He wanted it in his mouth. But, by God, he mostly wanted it deep within him, and he would do whatever it took to have that happen, even if it meant not looking at Kakashi while he got fucked. 

Iruka had been taken from behind several times in the past, and he was expecting Kakashi to do just that, but instead Kakashi dragged him vertically up on the bed and settled between Iruka’s legs, clearly intending to fuck Iruka with Iruka laying on his back. 

It was all so sweet and overwhelming – even if Kakashi didn’t know it was. 

The fucking knife in his back had made Iruka paranoid and resentful: it wasn’t just that he hadn’t been with another man since Mizuki, he hadn’t let anyone near his back either. Kotetsu and Izumo had seen his wound, of course, plenty of times, and all his doctors, too, but he wasn’t interested in sympathy stares or shocked gasps. He knew it was still a wound in some ways, even if it was mostly scar tissue now. He didn’t want Kakashi to see it, to see him, and being fucked on his back was actually, strangely, confusingly the kindest thing that Kakashi could have done for him.

Iruka was so very ready for Kakashi to enter him, and when the man finally did, Iruka pressed his calves hard against Kakashi’s ass, demanding more right away. 

But Kakashi wasn’t wanting rough sex, at least not immediately. His arms were on either side of Iruka’s pillows, and he leaned down over Iruka, breathing heavily, pushing slowly into him. Iruka heard himself moaning, but then Kakashi’s mouth was on his, kissing him so sweetly, so lovingly, that Iruka brought his arms under Kakashi’s to hold on his upper back, lifting himself up to kiss Kakashi with the same lustful adoration.

He could feel Kakashi moving his hips with Iruka’s legs situated around the other man, could feel Kakashi’s obviously thick cock thrusting in and out of him. Kakashi kept kissing him, persistent, breaking only to pant and press reassuring desperate kisses on Iruka’s cheeks. 

He could tell when Kakashi suddenly realized that he had kissed Iruka’s facial scar: the man stilled for just a second before he breathed double-time out loud and then started fucking Iruka with real absolute abandon. 

Iruka couldn’t keep up with Kakashi’s mind. Kakashi adjusted Iruka’s legs rapidly, forcing Iruka’s knees nearly up to his own shoulders, bending him tight against himself. He was holding Iruka down with the thick of his arms against Iruka’s calves, Kakashi’s hands pressed against his shoulders and neck. Iruka’s hands fell down to grab Kakashi’s bare thighs, somehow even in the new intense position wanting more, wanting to get fucked as hard as Kakashi could possibly fuck him.

And Kakashi could fuck him _hard_. 

Iruka felt himself going faint in blissful ecstasy as Kakashi pounded into him at the new angle harder and deeper, his cock now better positioned to go all the way inside Iruka. Iruka could barely comprehend the loud obscene slapping of their bodies together – and Kakashi’s frantic tight grip on Iruka’s shoulders – and Kakashi leaning down further so he could adoringly and feverishly kiss Iruka through their relentless fucking –

He open-mouthed gasped against Kakashi’s bare mouth when Kakashi thrust into him particularly hard – and then he felt that familiar shake of a man coming in him, above him – and he grabbed Kakashi by the back of the head, forcing him back down, desperately wanting to kiss him through his orgasm. 

And Kakashi allowed it, panting weakly before groaning into Iruka’s mouth, his body twisting in its final shuddering thrusts into Iruka. He breathed roughly, his bare nose pressed down on Iruka’s chin, for a few seconds, as Iruka felt dazed and all too warm and pleased with himself –

But then Kakashi was out of him, and then _he was going down on him_.

Even though he definitely had not come yet but was close, very close, Iruka flew up to snatch at Kakashi, almost exclaiming, “Stop, you don’t have to!” – but then Kakashi took all of Iruka into his mouth, every last inch and centimeter, and grabbed Iruka by his ass, using the man’s very body to help him throat-fuck Kakashi.

Iruka had literally no ability to protest. He instead fell back, gasping in wonder, in hot crazed pleasure, and found himself taking over some, forcing his cock deep into Kakashi’s mouth at the speed that he wanted. And Kakashi offered no resistance, clearly and indecently experienced having his mouth fucked in such a brutal way. Iruka realized how much Kakashi was enjoying himself, seeing Iruka act so unrestrained, as Kakashi’s fingers dug tighter, harder, into his ass, and Iruka’s thrusts were met more with choked moans than sounds of protest.

When Iruka came – and it was quick, almost so quick that he felt embarrassed with himself – Kakashi was just as obscene as Iruka had been the Saturday before, willingly and thrillingly taking Iruka’s cum down his throat as if he wanted to return the favor.

As Iruka relished the final trembling seconds of his orgasm, Kakashi laid down beside him.

They were both breathing hard – and sweating even worse. Iruka hadn’t fucked or gotten fucked many times with his shirt on, let alone having his partner to do the same. He wiped some of the sweat clinging to his face and mumbled “Fuck, it’s hot” under his breath. 

Kakashi laughed just a little before he retorted ridiculously, “You’re hot.”

Iruka shook his head, unable to hold back laughter. He pressed down his hand on his face and pushed at Kakashi’s clothed shoulder. “Shut up,” he replied mildly, “Don’t be dumb.”

Kakashi clearly shrugged, his shoulder moving up against Iruka’s. “You make me dumb.”

Iruka started to sit up, but it felt strange with his eyes closed. He went to ask when Kakashi answered him in advance, obviously having watched Iruka’s expression, “Yeah, you can open your eyes.”

Iruka looked immediately at Kakashi, interested to see the man after sex –

And he was so very floored to find Kakashi looking back at him with two visible eyes.

Iruka’s mouth dropped open, and he knew he was blinking ridiculously, because Kakashi’s still mostly-masked face swam with embarrassment and he glanced abruptly away to stare at the far wall of Iruka’s bedroom.

Iruka immediately moved closer to him. He loved the fuller appearance of Kakashi’s face: there was so much more pale white skin with the headband gone, even with the mask still covering the lower part of his face, and now he could see both of Kakashi’s thin silver eyebrows, which looked nearly magically pretty. 

A fine line of a scar cut sharply from Kakashi’s forehead all the way down to where his mask started, likely continuing onwards out of sight. The scar itself had a strangely slight feel to it, as if whatever had caused it had just torn across Kakashi’s face and kept going, never actually intending to hurt him – quite unlike what had happened to Iruka and his face. Kakashi’s eyebrow was indented just slightly where the injury had cut through the silver hair, but it was the scar tissue of Kakashi’s eye that proved most fascinating to Iruka.

Kakashi’s black eye clearly once had a matching mate, but Kakashi’s other eye was now scarred through the same line crossing down his forehead and cheek. The scar tissue had partially turned his eye a hazy muddled white-blue, retaining the black on the edges.

Iruka was straddling Kakashi before he knew what he was doing. His hands pressed down on either side of Kakashi’s head, one on his pillow, the other on the cold metal of his bedframe. He was glancing back and forth between Kakashi’s eyes – the black and the scarred white-blue – and he suddenly found himself saying: “Oh, I love your eyes!”

Kakashi abruptly looked back at him. 

Their eyes meeting for the first time sent Iruka blushing – not in arousal but in pleasant, excited surprise. He _really liked_ looking into both of Kakashi’s eyes. He whispered, “Oh…” feeling strangely faint and delighted by the sweet intensity of their shared eye contact.

Kakashi must have liked it, too, because he started to pull Iruka down to kiss him.

But, unfortunately, Kakashi tried to do so by moving his hand onto Iruka’s back, just inches from his wound-scar, and Iruka responded both quite poorly and very quickly.

Martial instinct kicked in: he yanked Kakashi’s wrist aside, twisting it to get him away.

But – worse – he triggered Kakashi’s own reflexes, and –

Iruka found himself wincing, choking, Kakashi’s left hand suddenly on his throat.

He instantly dropped Kakashi’s right hand while pulling himself backwards. 

In what felt like both a second later and also two centuries later, Iruka found himself sitting on the edge of the bed. He waved vaguely at Kakashi as the other man started to move and said, a bit hoarsely, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have done that. It’s my bad.”

He left the bedroom, crossing the hallway, and closed the bathroom door behind him. 

Iruka was nude in the shower, hot water crashing into him, before he realized he had disassociated from reality. He blinked a few times, looking around, wondering how long he had been alone in the shower. He hadn’t kept track of time all evening, well before Kakashi came over, and now that he was suddenly by himself, he had no clue how long they had been together.

He pulled on an old pair of boxers that had been lying discarded in the bathroom, feeling all at once weak and numb, lost and confused. Iruka started to open the bathroom door when he realized that Kakashi was sitting against it. He stopped after pulling the door open a few inches, and Kakashi turned his body to glance up at him with both eyes, looking so terribly pitiful and depressed that Iruka felt himself go pale. 

“I’m sorry, I... I… You…” Kakashi tried to say, but words eluded him, and he ended up staring hopelessly at Iruka, his mask hiding what must have been a truly miserable frown.

Iruka opened the door wider and backed up so he could lean against the sink. He could feel his own expression becoming dumb and emotional, trembling as he tried to restrain tears. He couldn’t keep eye contact with Kakashi; he found himself staring at the seashell pattern decorating his bathroom rug. He clung backwards to the sink, as if it alone could keep him standing.

Kakashi shifted to his feet, standing awkwardly in the doorframe. He had his hands pressed deep in his jean pockets; he’d apparently put his pants back on, though not his leather jacket. 

Iruka glanced back at him, taking in the still unfamiliar sight of Kakashi without his jacket and headband. He really was pretty, so tall and lean, all that silver hair, those fascinating eyes. 

Iruka sighed, turning his gaze downwards to stare at Kakashi’s bare feet. He hadn’t even thought about it, but Kakashi must have taken off his Converses and socks before they fucked. 

_What a gentleman_ , Iruka thought darkly, but then he grew mad at himself for being such a dick.

“I’m sorry,” Kakashi suddenly confessed. 

When Iruka looked back at him, their eyes meeting once again, he found that Kakashi was stuck in the middle of flinching. He appeared like he would have preferred to be screamed at than have to endure dead silence. After truly concentrating on him, Iruka realized again that Kakashi was shaking a little, unable to control his body’s anxious reaction to adrenaline and cortisol. 

“Someone stabbed me in the back,” Iruka said evenly.

Kakashi’s face completely changed so rapidly that Iruka’s hands instinctively clasped down on the edge of the sink. He could feel his own terrified reaction to the look that overcame Kakashi’s face: Iruka imagined he appeared utterly afraid, if not worse. 

Because Kakashi suddenly looked murderous. 

With both of his eyes exposed, his face had gone dark and intense, somehow fearfully dead and poised to kill at the same time. His eyes narrowed, looking at once at Iruka and clearly beyond him, towards Mizuki, even if he didn’t know the other man. His arms had tensed immeasurably; his shaking had stopped, and he had become so still that Iruka had a hard time imagining the man had ever moved at all.

When Kakashi finally spoke, his voice was utterly neutral and flat. 

“Tell me he’s in prison.”

Iruka wavered on his feet, and he found himself mumbling, transfixed by the look of pure homicidal want on the other man’s face, “Yes, he’s in prison.”

Kakashi immediately continued in the same inflectionless voice, “But he didn’t do that to your face.”

Iruka swallowed roughly. He knew Kakashi had paid a great deal of attention to his facial scar, but he really hadn’t imagined the man would be so bold as to mention it. He paused for a long moment before he quietly answered, “No, that happened when I was a child.”

Kakashi repeated himself in the exact same monotone: “Tell me he’s in prison.”

Iruka felt a wretched smile fight its way to his face. He shrugged a little, turning his head away from Kakashi’s intense stare. He faintly replied, “I can’t, because he’s dead.”

A few insanely tense moments passed between them with neither able to speak.

Then Kakashi stepped forward, taking his hands out of his jean pockets. He stopped to stand inside the bathroom just a few feet from Iruka, deliberately not crowding him. 

Raw emotion flowing back through him, Kakashi asserted in a rough, determined voice, “I don’t want to hurt you. I would rather cut my throat open than hurt you.” He closed both of his eyes and grit his teeth behind his closed lips and his mask. He finally ground out, “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I – I did that to you.”

Iruka waited a moment before he stepped forward and took Kakashi’s hand in his. “Hey, it’s fine,” he murmured, feeling like he had done more wrong than Kakashi, even if that wasn’t true. “We’re both fucked up in our own way, and that’s fine. I’m not looking for something simple.”

Kakashi’s eyes opened, and he stared down at Iruka so intensely that it was difficult to return his gaze, but Iruka forced himself to endure. Kakashi’s other hand gently caught Iruka’s chin, and he told Iruka so softly he was almost soundless, “You deserve someone much better than me.”

Iruka immediately brought his other hand to snag a belt-loop of Kakashi’s jeans, pulling him forward, and Kakashi went with the motion. After glancing over Kakashi’s face, yet again appreciating how much he had just revealed, even with the blue mask still hiding most of him, Iruka asked, amused pleasure coloring his words, “Does that mean I have you?”

Kakashi smiled behind his mask. “You had me after you jumped three feet in the air and watched me suffer and didn’t help me.” He shifted his hand to brush through Iruka’s loose hair, and Iruka felt himself leaning into Kakashi’s open palm. “You could have asked me to be yours forever, and I would have said, no, absolutely not, and then followed you home.”

Iruka felt too flattered to know how to respond. He was physically and emotionally exhausted, and Kakashi’s hand felt very gentle and good against his cheek. Iruka asked as he ignored the blush dancing up his face, “Do you want to watch a movie with me?”

Kakashi’s exposed silver eyebrows rose high on his face, the scar causing the left one to move slower and not as far. He blinked in surprise before he answered, obviously pretending to take Iruka’s comment in stride, “Yeah. I’ll order us some food.” 

And then Iruka watched in real surprise as a blush rose high up Kakashi’s cheeks above his mask. The silver-haired man said slowly, as if he was trying out the words for the first time: “It’s… It’s a date.”

Iruka smiled at him, incredibly tired, but also deliriously tickled that someone who could have just killed a stranger was now blushing and stammering like a stunned teenager. Iruka repeated back to Kakashi, laughing just a little as he did so, “Yeah, it’s a date. You and me, Kakashi – we’re going to date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how was that? What do you think?
> 
> Also: any ideas on what you would want to have happen next?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what's dating like?
> 
>  
> 
> _____

Kakashi watched the sunrise on Saturday morning at the park with a protein shake in his hand.

He had pushed up his headband and was trying to focus through his blind spot when Gai suddenly appeared on his good side, declaring brightly, “Kakashi! You are early today!”

Leaning back on the park bench, Kakashi glanced over at his friend, smiling slightly behind his mask. Gai instantly shoved a cup of hot coffee at him, reaching across Kakashi and snatching his protein shake in turn. He took an exploratory sip, nodded heartily, and threw himself down beside Kakashi, joining him in watching the sunrise spread over the horizon. 

Gai was wearing his usual Sunday exercise gear: green spandex shirt, strikingly small black athletic-wear shorts, and black Nike running shoes. In contrast, Kakashi had dressed in his own standard attire of leather jacket, blue turtleneck, and jeans. This morning he’d surveyed his wide array of Converses in the dark of his apartment and decided on his grey-silver pair. He had to work to ignore the little fanciful feeling that fluttered in his stomach as he thought about matching his shoes to his hair.

Kakashi pulled down his mask to take a sip of his coffee – and then kept it down far longer than he normally did.

Gai bravely tried not to look at him, but he was such a fan of intense eye contact, he was soon squirming in discomfort. “Ah, Kakashi,” he fumbled, giving him a partial sideways glance. “I would like to see your face when I speak to you.”

“So, look at me, Gai,” Kakashi replied. He hoped that he sounded composed, but he didn’t feel entirely comfortable... but he wanted to change, he wanted to be a better friend.

“Are you sure, my rival?” Gai asked with far too much enthusiasm. Kakashi tried not to be amused – or deeply anxious – at how much Gai was suddenly shaking like an excited puppy at the realization he was about to look at his old friend’s face again. 

“Yeah, Gai, it’s fine,” Kakashi sighed. 

He drank some of his coffee just as Gai looked directly at him with an immense grin on his face. His friend instantly clasped Kakashi’s knee and thigh with one huge hand, rocking Kakashi’s whole body with his forceful excitement. 

“Tell me,” Gai pleaded, so irrepressibly and honestly thrilled with the moment unfolding between them, “What has changed? Is it Iruka-sensei? Did you see him yesterday?”

Kakashi turned slightly to look at his old friend. He tried – and failed – not to be amazed by Gai’s natural goodness and decency: even though Gai hadn’t really seen his face the entire last year, he wasn’t gawking at the surprising extent of Kakashi’s horrible burns. He wasn’t even really _looking_ at them. 

Instead, Gai was happily staring at both of Kakashi’s eyes, smiling so wide that he seemed almost comically delighted.

It was very hard not to tear up at his friend’s good soul, but Kakashi controlled himself by blinking several times and turning his gaze down to his Converses. He lifted his knees slightly, and Gai easily took his hand off Kakashi’s leg without comment. 

Kakashi admitted after a moment, “Yeah, I saw him.”

Gai’s free hand was impatient and restless on the park bench. “And? Did he actually –” he said quickly but then stopped so suddenly that Kakashi shifted his gaze back to see what had happened. He was surprised to see Gai making a truly strange face. After a few seconds, Kakashi realized that Gai was having trouble forming the rest of his sentence, almost certainly because it contained something he didn’t want to say… possibly including profanity.

Becoming frightfully impatient, Kakashi could only stare straight at him. Eventually Gai managed to blunder out, obviously dissatisfied with not only the question but the possible answer: “Did Iruka-sensei truly only want a one-night stand? Was he really just using you?”

Kakashi felt true pleasure spark deep inside him, hearing the unmistakable care and worry in his friend’s question and voice. Kakashi felt a pleased blush rise to his cheeks and was yet again so very grateful that his mask – but, wait – he wasn’t wearing his mask, shit – and he glanced at Gai in sudden panic.

He found Gai watching him with an even broader grin than he had worn a few minutes prior. 

Kakashi stared at Gai with wide eyes and felt the blush deepen on his face. “I’m not –” he started but then cut himself off, drawing up a hand and covering his scarred cheek, feeling absolutely ridiculous.

But Gai was kind in all aspects of their friendship. He made no other comment and turned away from Kakashi to watch the orange-pink sunrise. His smile lessened… but now it seemed now more like an approving smirk. 

Eventually Kakashi got his blush under control. He sipped slowly at his coffee before he remarked in a quiet voice, “He invited me into his apartment.” He paused then added, almost under his breath, staring down into his coffee, “We watched a movie.”

Gai was looking at him again – and Kakashi didn’t have to turn his head to tell that Gai’s interest in his expression was exceedingly intense. He struggled to keep his voice down, but Gai was still nearly shouting when he inquired in excitement, “Did you spend time with him?”

At that point Kakashi did turn his head to properly give his friend an incredulous look. He asked in amused disbelief, “Are you trying to ask if we fucked, Gai?”

Gai opened his mouth as if he was going to reply, but he obviously couldn’t muster up a response. His face instead turned increasingly pink, and he blinked a few times, his big black eyes still locked on both of Kakashi’s revealed eyes. He finally stammered, “I – I just want – to know if…” But Gai’s conflicted expression faltered – and then he took off the lid of his protein shake and downed the entirety of his drink as Kakashi stared incredulously at him.

Gai stood up, pointed his finger directly in Kakashi’s face, and suddenly shouted, startling several nearby sleepy pigeons, “You deserve to be happy, Kakashi!” He nodded once, hard and heartfelt, before he declared loudly, changing his hand into a mighty fist, “I hope you and Iruka-sensei made love all night long! I hope you tore off your mask and kissed him silly! I hope you cuddled and watched – I don’t know – a Disney movie! Something adorable like _Paddington_! I just want you both to be deliriously happy!”

Kakashi realized that he was wide-eyed and open-mouthed gaping at his friend, without either his protective headband or mask, towards the end of Gai’s speech. He hastily turned away and drank half of his coffee, so overcome by the intensity and sincerity of Gai’s friendship. Kakashi pushed back against the park bench, staring off to the left, away from Gai, absolutely unable to meet his friend’s eyes for the moment.

He felt very sick and stupid – because he wanted all of what Gai had said, and it was painful to acknowledge that Gai was really, truly his best friend and knew him far, far too well. 

Kakashi found himself making a single hasty confession, still not looking at his friend, “We’re dating.”

For a long moment, Kakashi wasn’t sure Gai heard him – but then –

A very strangled sound came from in front of him. Kakashi whipped back his head to discover what was happening – and was flabbergasted to see that Gai had burst wildly into tears. 

Gai didn’t care to cover or wipe at his face. Instead the tears poured endlessly down both of his cheeks, soaking the high neck of his spandex shirt. He was nearly wincing through his emotional outburst but was still desperately trying to focus on Kakashi, forcing his eyes to stay just barely peeled open as they overflowed with tears. 

Kakashi could feel his face flush thoroughly. Unable to look away from his friend while he was so obviously affected by Kakashi’s good news, he muttered, sounding truly pained, “Gai…”

Gai waved both of his hands dramatically in front of him. “No, no, I am sorry, my dearest rival, this is – this is all so lovely – I cannot –” Gai closed his eyes tightly, causing more tears to fall, before he declared urgently, “I must go on my run now. I cannot sit still. I will see you tomorrow morning! Please, Kakashi, let us try this again tomorrow.”

Kakashi nearly stood up to protest. “Wait, Gai,” he began to object, but Gai cut him off with a frantic sharp gesture and started shaking his head in true agitation.

But Gai’s voice was so shockingly soft that Kakashi felt himself leaning forward to try and hear him, something which he wasn’t honestly sure that he had ever done before with his friend. Once he heard Gai, he became all too overwhelmed by the purity of Gai’s friendship. 

“I am so happy for you, Kakashi. I truly am. I will burst if I do not run.”

Kakashi managed to faintly reply, “Yeah, Gai, go run. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Gai was still crying as he nodded in relief and turned around and _ran so very fast_ that he was out of Kakashi’s sight within seconds. 

The two of them would normally spend another thirty minutes together to watch the sun fully come up. Around then, Gai would start his run and Kakashi would meander back home to do schoolwork before they would meet back up at the Rec Center at 8 A.M. to train their teams. 

But now that Gai had literally sprinted away early, Kakashi found himself alone and a bit confused as to what to do. He didn’t really want to go back to his apartment, but sitting alone on the park bench wasn’t ideal, so Kakashi adjusted his mask and headband and slowly headed to his car. He fidgeted for just a moment with his phone: he hadn’t imagined contacting Iruka so soon after they… ‘spent time together’ as Gai put it, but the temptation was real.

Kakashi had gotten back to his apartment fairly early the night before, feeling so very dazed and giddy that he could barely recognize himself. He eventually had to take medication to go to sleep because he was so strung out on adrenaline. Even then, he’d only succeeded in falling asleep around midnight. Kakashi wasn’t bothered by such little sleep, plus he had wanted to see Gai, but now he suddenly found himself back in a state of confused excitement. 

He wouldn’t contact Iruka. They would see each other again at the Rec Center in only two hours.

But now Kakashi was wondering what that would look like. Would Iruka acknowledge him? Or that… they had been… together? More than that – would Iruka act like they were dating? 

Kakashi sat in his car, mindlessly running his gloved hands over the driver’s wheel. He was remembering Iruka’s truly content smile as he waved goodbye to Kakashi last night, leaning against the door like a languid lover, both sated and relieved by the previous few hours. 

He had a hard time imagining that expression was for him, in part because he could also recall how frosty Iruka had been earlier the very same day when Kakashi had caught up with him near Hiruzen Hall. Iruka had been perfectly _cold_ with him. Kakashi felt himself wincing at that vision of Iruka in his head, the one where Iruka, holding his books tight against his chest, had glared at Kakashi and snapped out, _We were drunk, and we made a mistake. Now excuse me._

But then – there was also the equally real image of Iruka underneath him, barely able to get out a single gasp as Kakashi thrust into him over and over again. God, Iruka’s face… 

Kakashi brought his fingers to his masked lips, stupidly thrilled that he had gotten to kiss Iruka… and… kiss his stomach, suck his cock, lick him open, fuck him with his fingers, fuck him with his cock, have Iruka fuck his mouth, have Iruka cum in his mouth…

 _God and Jesus._ Kakashi shook his head, bewildered that he was getting hard _again_ so early in the morning. He had spectacularly orgasmed the night before – and also just an hour ago when the same damn thing had happened to him. He’d woken up, suddenly thought about _everything_ he and Iruka had done with each other – and gotten so hard that he had to jerk off right away – and it had been good, _way too good_. 

Well, to hell with it. Kakashi rapidly drove back to his apartment, because there was no way he was going to get an erection at the Rec Center in front of children. No fucking way.

**

He sent the kids back up on the ropes course, in part because he was in a good mood, but also because he definitely did not want Naruto, Sasuke, _or_ Sakura around if Iruka decided to stop by.

Kakashi tried not to be damnably nervous about it, but he found himself glancing with his one good eye towards the parking lot for much of the morning. He hadn’t spotted Iruka at any point, which made him feel like he should have been killed four dozen times or more in Special Ops. 

Had Iruka managed to arrive without him noticing? How could that possibly be?

He tugged at the tight cloth over his burns, his irritation manifesting itself on his physical form. He tried to keep track of Naruto, who was being a real brat this morning, having regressed back to picking fights with Sasuke. Kakashi recognized too well that he was on edge, and he worked very hard not to let his agitation spill over onto his students. 

But an hour into Saturday morning practice, Kakashi finally found himself raising his voice, sending a barking shout up to his team on the ropes, “Naruto! Get your hands off –” 

Then he heard soft, intimately familiar laughter behind him.

He couldn’t help but spin partially around, caught totally by surprise. Iruka was standing right behind him, red and flushed from running over to him, dark loose hairs around his face sticking to his sweaty skin. 

His brown eyes were warmly set on Kakashi… not on his former team, but _Kakashi_. 

Iruka’s smile made Kakashi’s heart skip several beats. 

“Where’s your book?” Iruka teased while stepping closer to him. While he was simply only looking at Kakashi, there was such a stunning fondness in Iruka’s gaze that it caused Kakashi to lose his breath entirely.

Kakashi realized that he was staring wide-eyed, most of his face clothed and hidden away, unable to speak, when Iruka’s dark eyebrows rose and he glanced over Kakashi skeptically. 

“Are you okay?” Iruka asked Kakashi more quietly, new wispy threads of worry running through his voice. He stopped short just a few feet away, and his expression suddenly swam with confusion. He started to blush differently as if he was coming to some new conclusion. 

Before Kakashi could interrupt, Iruka glanced away at the woods, muttered quickly, “Good luck, Hatake-sensei,” and started to walk back towards where his elementary school children were resting in a huge group.

“Iruka, wait,” Kakashi declared so sharply that he caused the other man to startle – _again_. 

But then their eyes met – Kakashi’s one good eye and Iruka’s two beautiful brown eyes – and Kakashi instantly stepped forward, feeling like an ungainly newborn deer on too-long legs. His hands twitched in his leather jacket pocket; he realized belatedly he was contemplating grabbing Iruka and kissing him silly in front of everyone, which would have meant yanking down his mask and revealing _everything_ about himself. He could tell he was blushing, both embarrassed and confused as to what to do, when Iruka craned his head back to look at him better, now that they were standing so close together, trying to assess what was going on with him.

After a few seconds, Iruka seemed to recognize Kakashi’s uncertainty, and his dark eyes grew full and fond. “You’re ridiculous,” he murmured and suddenly drew Kakashi forward by grabbing his leather jacket, a motion which he clearly enjoyed repeating over and over again. 

Although he could have pulled back, Kakashi allowed the movement, feeling more than lost as to what to do in public with Iruka. He felt himself blinking his one eye in surprise as Iruka slowly ran both of his hands up Kakashi’s jacket and brushed invisible dirt off the shoulders. Iruka kept his warm smile and eye contact as he stepped back away and put his hands behind his back. 

“I like your shoes today,” Iruka remarked casually, sparing a glance down to Kakashi’s silver-grey Converses. 

Kakashi’s heart did all sorts of Olympic-level acrobatics in his chest. His blush was deepening, not out of embarrassment but real thorough pleasure. But his voice was still stolen and gone; he stared back at Iruka, barely thinking, breathing unsteadily, unable to say a word. 

Still, Iruka didn’t seem to mind. His smile wasn’t exactly patronizing, but it showed that he was clearly amused at Kakashi’s expense. Iruka simply waved one hand at him, issuing an easy “Call me later,” and started to turn back to his young students. 

Kakashi jerked forward, feeling less like a newborn deer and more like a puppet held on tight strings attached to Iruka’s fine calloused fingers. Suddenly afraid Iruka would vanish right in front of him, Kakashi asked with more than a hint of desperation in his tone, “Can we have lunch?”

Iruka stopped halfway through turning away and glanced back at him. His smile went wide, and he looked up and down Kakashi’s form, obviously pleased that he was affecting Kakashi with such little effort on his part. Although he knew he should feel defensive or embarrassed, Kakashi really only wanted confirmation that they would see each other again – and soon. He searched Iruka’s expression for an answer, feeling absurdly relieved when Iruka finally nodded at him.

“Yeah, why don’t you come over to my place?” Iruka modestly suggested while a truly sinister sparkle lit up his dark brown eyes.

Kakashi was suddenly grinning under his mask. He wasn’t entirely sure if his grin was obvious, so he inclined his head in agreement just to be clear. “If you want, I can drive you,” he proposed, knowing that his tone was out of his control due to his ridiculous excitement.

Iruka heard it, too. He turned around to look fully at Kakashi. With a barely contained smile, Iruka noted lightly, “Hatake-sensei, it’s almost like you want to see me again.”

Before he could stop himself, Kakashi countered, ardently staring at Iruka, “I want to see you underneath me again.”

Iruka immediately flushed; he was unable to restrain the shock that rapidly saturated his expression. He looked incredulously at Kakashi for a few moments before he shook his head and touched his facial scar out of nervous embarrassment. “Okay, I walked into that,” Iruka admitted aloud with a little laugh. He glanced back up with a mildly serious glare. “Come over at 12:30. I want to take a shower before I see you.”

Kakashi paused, wanting to debate, but he finally shrugged, deciding it was better to surrender. “Sure, 12:30,” he responded without trying to keep his enthusiasm out of his voice. Again, Iruka seemed to hear it, and the other man seemed particularly pleased once again. Iruka gave him a short airy wave, which Kakashi returned, before the other man returned to his gathered students across the soccer fields. 

“Hatake-sensei~!” 

Struggling out of his pleasant daze, Kakashi glanced back up at his students and found Sakura holding Naruto back from strangling Sasuke, who was simply glaring at the other boy in turn. He didn’t have to observe the scene very long to understand what happened: Sasuke must have given Naruto particularly rough handling, because the little red lines on the boy’s face were deliberately smudged, and Sasuke was wiping his white athletic shorts free of bright eyeliner. 

Trying not to sigh, Kakashi issued new orders to his team, but most of his mind was on promises made so sweetly underneath other promises.

**

Dating was _strange_. 

Iruka had two plates on the faux-granite countertop with two slices of bread on each plate, and he was carefully organizing deli meat, slices of cheese, lettuce, and sliced tomatoes on the bread. He seemed to particularly concentrate on his methodology, which was simultaneously fascinating and bewildering: Kakashi had never spent so much time making a sandwich in his life. He honestly couldn’t tell if Iruka was _very good_ at making sandwiches – or if he was _absolutely and unbelievably stressed_ about making sandwiches. 

He had situated himself on the other side of the counter, looking into the kitchen, standing in the living room and resting halfway over the high-top. Unlike last night, Kakashi had thought it polite to take off his shoes at the door. But he kept his headband on, terribly unsure if and when he should remove the strip of cloth over his scarred eye. He had done the same with his jacket.

Iruka had given him a quick, slightly hesitant embrace when Kakashi had first entered his apartment again, which Kakashi had secretly treasured. He had been a bit alarmed when Iruka had pulled away – which worsened when they hadn’t jumped right back into kissing… and other things. 

But… Kakashi was realizing that _this was dating_. Or… something like dating, because he wasn’t totally sure what was happening as Iruka intensely tried to prepare both of them sandwiches.

He had been trying to do so for the last half-hour.

Iruka looked between the sandwiches quite seriously, adjusting a bit of the lettuce off the right before glancing up with fierce demanding eyes at Kakashi. “Do you want mustard? Mayo?” he asked with the deadly urgency that Kakashi usually expected out of a fellow soldier.

“Uh, no, I’m fine,” Kakashi replied, a bit more than perplexed. He reached across the high-top and rapidly pulled off one of the slices of tomato from the left sandwich, which surprised Iruka, who looked up at him in astonishment. “You’re overdoing it,” he admonished before tugging off a huge piece of lettuce from the same sandwich as well as the third slice of cheese. 

As Kakashi put the bread atop the still remarkably huge sandwich, he glanced up with his one good eye to observe Iruka’s expression. He was surprised to find the other man looking noticeably crestfallen, having stepped away from the plates. Iruka was now holding the opposite kitchen counter like it was the only thing keeping him standing upright. 

“I didn’t come over for sandwiches,” Kakashi remarked after a moment, retracting his arm from across the high-top. When Iruka’s gaze dropped sadly further to the kitchen floor, Kakashi continued with sharper insistence, “I honestly don’t care what we eat. I’ve eaten MREs for months at a time. Any fresh produce is great.”

Iruka shyly looked back up at him. “I barely ever eat in,” he confessed in a quiet tone. He looked so awfully out of place and embarrassed that he was almost squirming. It was a strange look on a man that Kakashi had grown accustomed to being mercilessly sexually assertive with him.

Kakashi smiled behind his mask. “And I barely eat out,” he replied, deliberately scratching at his scarred cheek. He gave a slight shrug and added coolly, “I would have cooked us something, but you seemed really into making us lunch.” 

Iruka stared at him a long time before he finally blinked. A flustered blush rose to his scarred cheeks – _still such a fascinating sight! that scar, those cheeks…_ – and Iruka couldn’t hold back a small smile while still looking at Kakashi. 

“Well, then, I guess you’ll have to cook us dinner sometime,” Iruka posed softly, sounding quite pleased.

The excited tumble of Kakashi’s heart started up its performance again. He found himself smiling back – and he hoped that Iruka could discern that he was smiling with his mask in place. Without giving it too much more thought, Kakashi pulled off his cloth headband, placing it on the kitchen high-top, and reached over to grab his plate. Briefly appreciating the _very_ interested look that Iruka was now giving his further exposed face, Kakashi gestured towards Iruka’s loveseat and suggested amiably, “C’mon, let’s watch some more _Planet Earth_.”

He was surprised when Iruka didn’t join him on the loveseat but instead sat in the old vintage chair closer to the television. Kakashi went to complain, even though he was schooling himself not to whine about it, when he realized that Iruka was purposefully not looking at him as he switched through the Netflix app and found where they had left off the night before. 

Kakashi found himself strangely flattered: without asking, Iruka was allowing him to take down his mask to eat at his own normal pace, at his own comfort level. He swallowed roughly, trying not to be overwhelmed by the other man’s unsolicited kindness, and went about eating his comically overstuffed sandwich. 

After ten minutes or so, Kakashi pulled his mask up, returned his empty plate to the kitchen, and sat back down. Without being asked, Iruka settled in beside him on the loveseat, daintily eating at the crust while continuing to watch the television. Kakashi found himself staring more at the man sitting next to him than the animal documentary; he enjoyed watching Iruka’s eyes track the movement of hunting lions on the flatscreen, Iruka’s head tilt up in surprise when the ambush failed, Iruka’s legs tense when the lead lioness got her shit rocked and landed badly on her back. 

He was pulling on Iruka’s shoulder before he knew what he was doing. Iruka glanced at him, distantly confused at the touch, before he caught the look in both of Kakashi’s eyes. He immediately redirected all of his attention to Kakashi, dropping the remains of his sandwich on his plate and placing it all on the coffee table in front of them. 

Iruka’s brown eyes once again regained their wondrous intensity. He was obviously enchanted by both of Kakashi’s eyes, an unmistakable truth so exceptionally flattering that it was hard for Kakashi to sustain eye contact with him. But he so enjoyed looking at Iruka when the other man held such heat and fascination burning in his gaze. 

Kakashi hadn’t met many men as unabashedly sincere as Iruka Umino; he certainly hadn’t been in such close contact with them, nor had he wanted to watch their faces for more than a few seconds. 

But Kakashi found himself enthralled with Iruka. 

He was utterly bewitched. 

As Kakashi watched Iruka close his eyes without being asked, Kakashi’s skin shivered alive with goosebumps. He closed the slight distance between them, pulling down his mask as he moved towards the other man. His right arm went around Iruka’s waist, his left hand gently bringing Iruka closer. When their lips finally met again, it was none of the hard passion of the night before – nor the drunken wildness of their time in the alleyway. 

Kakashi could tell that having both of his eyes revealed did strange, fluttering things to Iruka: the other man was terribly expressive and hopelessly genuine in his reactions to Kakashi. But it was Kakashi who was leaning forward right away – because Iruka tilted his head slightly and gave Kakashi’s lower lip a long, luscious swipe of his tongue, silently asking to deepen their kiss. He breathed out unsteadily when Iruka did what both of them wanted him to do: Iruka’s fingers threaded tightly through Kakashi’s silver hair, forcing their faces closer together all the more intimately.

Kakashi had quickly realized something the night before – when they were both sober and kissing during the daylight.

It wasn’t that Iruka would be able to feel his burns. Kakashi had understood _that_ would be true even before they had started kissing drunkenly in the alleyway.

No, what he hadn’t calculated when kissing Iruka was _both_ of their facial scars.

At certain exceptional angles, Iruka’s horizontal scar not only touched _Kakashi’s_ facial scar – but also the starting edges of his burns – and the whole thing made Kakashi faint from too much conflicting emotion.

He heard himself panting before he realized he was even doing it – and then, as if he had just noticed it, too, Iruka was on top of him, straddling him on the loveseat, shoving Kakashi hard against the cushions. He was ruthless in his pursuit of Kakashi’s mouth; his grip in Kakashi’s hair was nearly brutal, but Kakashi absolutely loved it, straight down to his unrepentant masochistic bones. He groaned, dark and deep in his throat, when Iruka laughed breathlessly, palming Kakashi's painful erection through his tight jeans. 

Kakashi had tossed his head back without thinking, exposing the entirety of the burns of his throat, before he suddenly realized what he had done. He jerked upright, nearly hitting Iruka in the process. Kakashi jostled the unnerved man back into place, growing hot from unexpected embarrassment, and impulsively tried to solve things by kissing – and then biting – at Iruka’s own revealed neck. He was desperately rewarded by Iruka’s own throaty moan, the other man’s hands dropping down and gripping Kakashi’s shoulders with real force. Kakashi’s own hands relocated to Iruka’s hips, and he pushed Iruka down harder on his lap, getting them to grind together. 

He was back to kissing at Iruka’s throat, easing down from the jolting fear that his burns might be totally found out, when, suddenly, above him, Iruka confusingly asked in a breathy voice, “How old are you?”

Kakashi paused for a second, glancing up the long line of Iruka’s tan-skinned throat. He answered, a bit amused but mostly thrown by the question: “You think I’m not legal?”

“No,” Iruka replied immediately, his hands clenching harder on Kakashi’s shoulders. “I just – I just don’t know much about you.”

Kakashi hummed slightly before resuming his trail of kisses down the lovely muscles of Iruka’s throat. “Well, if you must know,” he murmured against Iruka’s skin. “I’m twenty-five.”

Iruka’s right hand ran down his leather jacket, stretching his fingers upwards, as Kakashi continued to kiss at his neck in a desperate desire to memorize all of Iruka’s body. “You’re two years older than me,” Iruka noted absently. He stayed quiet only for a few seconds before he – almost frustratingly – asked Kakashi another bewildering question: “Where did you grow up?”

Kakashi couldn’t help but nip at Iruka’s neck, irritated but also entertained by Iruka’s determined quest for more information about him. He was all too delighted by Iruka shifting in response in his lap, and he thrust upwards on instinct, causing Iruka to tighten his grip on Kakashi’s shoulders. Unable to control the amusement from his voice, Kakashi replied easily, “Here. I’m from here.” 

When Iruka didn’t immediately respond with his own answer, Kakashi found himself wrestling with the peculiar desire in wanting to know more about the other man. He hesitated in his relentless kissing before he asked slowly but carefully, not looking up at Iruka, who he knew still had his eyes closed: “Where are you from?”

Sounding rather damn pleased, Iruka replied instantly, “A few hours south, by the beach.” He dipped his head down and startled the very life out of Kakashi by almost perfectly kissing his long facial scar. Before Kakashi could even shake himself out of his frozen shock, Iruka moved further down and captured his lips in deliriously excited conquest. He must have felt Kakashi’s initial stillness, but Iruka’s hand rediscovered Kakashi’s hair, and he pushed them together so eagerly that it was impossible to stay stunned and motionless. 

Although Iruka’s hand didn’t fall back down to caress Kakashi’s erection, the friction between their jeans and thighs was doing wonderful things to sustain and encourage arousal. But, before Kakashi could even think to suggest a next step, Iruka pulled back from him and asked, low and rushed, “Do you – do you not want to know anything about me?”

Kakashi felt fury tear through him, but he could tell that it was unreasonable aggravation, nothing clever, nothing good. He bit back a dozen ugly responses and dropped his head to rest on Iruka’s shoulder like he had done the night before. The position had felt strangely safe, like he was giving up some of his burdens, like Iruka could handle some of the weight he was always carrying. Kakashi stopped himself from gritting his teeth together and peeled his eyes back open, letting his hands drift down to spread over Iruka’s jean-covered thighs. 

Then suddenly, before he could stop himself, Kakashi demanded, at once livid and exasperated, “Is this so you can ask me about my burns?”

Iruka stiffened under Kakashi’s hands; Iruka’s own hands went still on Kakashi’s shoulders. He was so impossibly silent that Kakashi wondered fleetingly if the whole thing was some surreal fantasy that he had conjured in his sleep – that this rapid series of sexual adventures was the result of too much whiskey and sorrow and torn up trauma – 

But then Iruka was climbing off of him and standing up entirely. Kakashi instinctively pulled his mask back into place, but when he finally looked up at Iruka, he realized that the other man had turned around, keeping his back to Kakashi. Iruka was now standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his shoulders shaking nearly imperceptibly, in what was obviously anger.

Kakashi felt immediately like he wanted to sulk forever on Iruka’s loveseat, just as he so often did on his old couch in his own apartment. The sight of an irritated, frustrated friend was too familiar, and Iruka was replicating the same stance that Kakashi had seen many times on both Gai and Tenzou over the last few months. He went back to gritting his teeth, turning his gaze down to Iruka’s carpet, before he finally stood up as well. 

“I’ll just leave,” he muttered, adrenaline unhelpfully adding to his arousal.

“Is your mask –” Iruka asked in a short incomplete clip, his tone all storm and thunder. 

At first Kakashi nodded, but then he realized Iruka couldn’t see him with his back was to him, so he said aloud, “Yeah, but it’s fine, I’m going to go.”

Iruka spun on him, his brown eyes suddenly full of the same frightful distaste that Kakashi had rejected with such vehemence three weeks ago when they first met. Iruka stepped forward, clearly not caring that Kakashi would definitely not appreciate the abrupt proximity. It seemed too much like Iruka was going to start a physical altercation, but Kakashi controlled himself, particularly since it was obvious that Iruka was not restraining himself at all.

Kakashi glanced down at Iruka’s index finger as the other man prodded his chest hard through his unzipped leather jacket. He had realized that Iruka had some serious martial arts skill last night – when things had gone wrong – and his brain was doing the unnecessary mathematics of how to properly break Iruka’s wrist, force him into a hold, knock him unconscious or worse.

But Iruka didn’t know any of Kakashi’s uninvited internal thoughts as he asserted fiercely, pushing a single finger sharply into Kakashi’s chest, “You don’t get to be an asshole to me.” 

Kakashi focused more on Iruka’s eyes, forcing himself to stop doing dangerous calculations. The other man’s expressive brown eyes were just as furious as they had been before – but they had a different edge to them that Kakashi was having a hard time understanding. He knew he was doing Iruka wrong by being short with him, refusing to get to know him, forcing him to confront his burns right away at the start of whatever this was between them, but…

But he felt totally defined by his burns… and everything else that he had done during his service. 

There just wasn’t much left to him besides his burns.

Kakashi was sure that his expression had reverted to its unreadable blank state. He could tell that it had happened instinctively when Iruka shook his head, darkly frowning. “You don’t get to give me puppy eyes and then give me ‘shut the fuck up’ eyes two seconds later,” Iruka declared tightly, staring at Kakashi’s offending eyes as he talked about them. “You may not have dated a lot, but you don’t get to act like you have no idea how to be a decent fucking person.”

It was then that Kakashi realized what the edge in Iruka’s eyes were –

Iruka scowled, rubbing a fist against his right eye, and announced roughly, “You _are_ a good guy. Don’t be an asshole just because you’re scared. It’s – it’s fucking pitiful. You’re better than that. _Be better than that._ ”

And Kakashi suddenly realized he’d made Iruka cry, and he felt the very floor of Iruka’s apartment shatter into tiny shards of wood and cement and rebar under his feet, and he was back in the explosion with flames licking up his throat, and he was grabbing onto Iruka’s shoulders, forcing him into a barely consensual embrace, and he was saying through his mask into Iruka’s pretty hair still up in a ponytail, “I’m sorry – you’re right – I –” 

He couldn’t finish what he was saying, because he wasn’t really thinking, and he heard Iruka mumble, shoved face-first into his leather jacket, “Fuck, Kakashi… _Jesus_ ,” and Kakashi flinched and realized that he was shaking all over. He felt so very stupid, and he was shaking, and he was terribly embarrassed, and he started to pull away, but now Iruka wasn’t having it, holding onto him hard with that martial strength that was both intriguing and provocative all at once. 

Kakashi’s vision was confusingly blurry; he winced, trying to get his blind spot to stop being a damn mess, before he realized that it was blurry because there were tears clouding his sight. He frowned, keeping his lips tight together, his eyes likely doing that very damn thing that Iruka had said they did – giving a ridiculous sad puppy dog look. Kakashi tried to turn his head away, but Iruka caught his face with the same amplified force – 

Iruka’s right hand was on his masked face. His thumb and fingers were pressing down on Kakashi’s burnt cheek and jaw… knowingly, carelessly, carefully.

Kakashi went still – or he tried to, anyway. He could tell that he was still trembling so very slightly, a terrible after-effect of the explosion; he used to never have trouble keeping still when he needed to stay stationary. But he was trying to be still with Iruka, not out of military reflex, but because _he was scared, and Iruka knew he was, and Iruka was trying to comfort him._

He felt a traitorous tear escape his left eye – his scarred eye – and… Iruka simply brushed it away. Kakashi watched in slow confused wonder as Iruka stepped forward, leaned upwards, and kissed him with impossible lightness through his mask. His hands went out of his control: he caught Iruka and pulled him into a wild embrace. He was hurriedly making promises into Iruka’s hair, through his mask, barely keeping himself from crushing the other man: “I’ll be better. I’ll answer questions. I’ll ask you about yourself. I’ll – I’ll cook dinner. Whatever you want.”

Iruka laughed into his chest in a way that audibly revealed he was frustrated with Kakashi but clearly intending on sticking around. He shifted his face so he wasn’t suffocating in Kakashi’s leather jacket and brought his arms around Kakashi’s waist while shaking his head disbelievingly. 

After a few seconds, Kakashi felt himself stop shaking.

And then Iruka asked quietly, “So… what’s your favorite color?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is dear Kakashi again. 
> 
> And he's not going to be on top this time.


End file.
